


wildest dreams

by Rosyredlipstick



Series: AU Solangelo Fic [15]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams, Erased, Lots of Crying, M/M, Mild Gore, Nico is Erased, Temporary Character Death, Violence, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyredlipstick/pseuds/Rosyredlipstick
Summary: Will has just about a thousand things to deal with. With the six month anniversary of the battle coming up, along with a literal crowd of visiting Roman campers, Will is exhausted. This isn’t to mention the sudden unapproved expansion to his infirmary, or the handful of trouble he's in charge of, fondly nicknamed the Apollo cabin. All these facts translate to only one thing - he's a very busy man.With all these things in mind, he does not have time to consider why the forever empty Hades cabin seems to be bothering him nowadays.And he definitely does not have time to figure out why the air beside him suddenly feels so empty.And he absolutely, completely, totally does not have the time to even consider why the hell he’s having dreams (nightmares) that have him crying and screaming into the late hours of the night.He's a busy man, after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to lovely ranger52silverbrooke & certifiedacehet tumblr users for reading over the first chapter and giving me their input.

_Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your_  
 _wildest dreams_

* * *

Will has just about a thousand things to deal with. With the six month anniversary of the battle coming up, along with a literal crowd of visiting Roman campers, Will is exhausted. This isn’t to mention the sudden unapproved expansion to his infirmary, or the handful of trouble he's in charge of, fondly nicknamed the Apollo cabin. All these facts translate to only one thing - he's a very busy man.

With all these things in mind, he does not have time to consider why the forever empty Hades cabin seems to be bothering him nowadays.

And he definitely does not have time to figure out why the air beside him suddenly feels so empty.

And he absolutely, completely, totally does not have the time to even consider why the hell he’s having dreams (nightmares) that have him crying and screaming into the late hours of the night.

He's a busy man, after all.

* * *

He woke up in a dream, which was always a disorienting experience.

It was his cabin, which was reassuring, but the fact that the cabin was also totally and completely deserted brought back his earlier feeling of unease. He took a step forward, clenching at one of the golden bedposts, and glanced around for whatever called him.

He took a few hesitant steps forward, not really used to this whole awake dream thing.

Sure, godly dreams were common among demigods, and he’d shared a few unique ones with his siblings when his father felt about bragging about his latest accomplishment, but he was never as important as say, Annabeth or Percy, who received dreams almost every night when the gods were raging on.

He stumbled across one of the crooked floorboards he’d forgotten about, finding it ironic that facts like gravity and tripping and pain were still relevant in such otherworldly dreams.

He took a step out of his cabin, not really noticing how his hands were desperately clenching onto the doorway, his knuckles turning white without blood.  The entire camp was a ghost town, with not even the waves splashing against the rocks in this dream, leaving the air stiff and unbroken. Will sucked in a breath, his chest aching.

All the cabins were dark and boarded up, abandoned in a way he hadn't thought possible. The Aphrodite cabin, only a few doors down, was destroyed, the dirty, ripped curtains hanging down in clumps, and the previously pink door was splintered across the grass. Will took a step forward, his mouth open in awe, or maybe horror, at the other cabins, all in similar states. The Demeter cabins flowers were uprooted, thrown across the fields, and the Artemis windows were broken in.

His eye caught on the Zeus cabin, in one of the worst states. The white marble was tarnished and dirty, large chucks were chipping from the delicate designs that used to decorate the surface. The large bronze door had scratches across the dulled surface, with indents across the bottom as if it had been forcefully kicked open.

His own cabin was hardly touched in comparison, but damaged nonetheless. A few of the floorboards were raised and thrown about, and the door hanging off the hinges. Dust and dirt hung in the air, and was heavy in his lungs and on his skin.

They were all destroyed, or in the process of being.

Except for the Hades cabin.

All the cabins, with the sole exception of the twelfth cabin, were alone and unlit, waiting for the fixing Will knew (felt) would never come, and the campers Will felt (knew) would never return.

But the Hades cabin, as Will ran towards it, desperate for a reason he didn't know why, was lit up, and the grass before him seemed to stretch out as he ran, except now Will could clearly see the shadow of someone behind the curtains - someone short, hair down to their shoulders, someone who was turning -

\- And Will woke up with a gasp, clenching at his chest as the breath seized in his throat.

His brother - Lukas – paused at his bunk, clear concern evident in his eyes. “You okay, Will?”

Will was nodding before he could truly comprehend his brother’s words.”I’m good, just…” He tried to think back to his dream, about the terrifying emotion that lit him up from the inside out, but the images slipped through his hands like dirty water. He shook his head, the dream already almost forgotten, as he gripped at one image, the single image his mind had decided to take away.

“Weird dream.” he told his brother, flipping off his blanket and standing. He lingered on the thought - the image of the Hades cabin being lit up and lived in as it never had before - but let it fall to the back of his mind.

He’s a busy man, after all.

* * *

“You’ve done what.” Will’s voice is flat and angry, too angry to be a question. He tries to level his glare at Chiron – he doesn’t think the centaur would appreciate it but fuck it, he’s pissed.

Chiron gives Will an exasperated look, like his anger is totally invalid. “With the addition of all the Roman campers we thought it would be best to expand the area of the infirmary to better hold all the injured.”

Will swallowed, remembering that Kayla – his second-in-command – was at his shoulder, and he should probably be setting a good example for her. When he spoke, his voice held a bit less malice, so Will counted that as a victory. “And you didn’t think to notify the head medic in charge? Or any of the medic’s in general?”

Chiron pursed his lips. “As I’m sure you know I have been very busy with making arrangements for the camp. With the six month anniversary vigil coming up, and the Roman’s being attacked on their journey here, I have had much to deal with, William.” He sighed, glancing at the papers in his hands. “It is only temporary. I apologize for not notifying your cabin sooner, but believe me when I say that I had full intentions to do so.”

Will echoed back his sigh, the fight draining out of him. “Alright. How long are the Romans staying?”

“The original arrangement was one week, but that may change now that they are caring for wounded.”

Will nodded, already working out the shift differences needed to cover the increased amount of people.

“I’ll need more ambrosia to deal with all these Romans.” Will warned him, “And another order of that Roman medicine – the unicorn draught. I’ll need at least three more cases.”

“Consider it done.” Chiron agreed, his voice easy. “Will that be all?”

Will nodded in agreement, turning on his heel to leave the Big House. He slammed the door after them, only a bit satisfied at the loud sound that echoed after them. Let it not be said that he didn't enjoy the little things. 

“Kayla, who’s on the afternoon shift?” He asked, squinting against the early morning sun. It had been barely eight when he rolled out of bed into the infirmary to find several handfuls of unfamiliar, incredibly hostile, Roman faces.

Along with a panicked Kayla, of course.

She paused for a second in thought, and he took a moment to be grateful of her tendency to memorize the schedule days in advance. “Hina and Austin, I believe.”

Will nodded, holding the door open so she could pass through. The infirmary wasn’t as crazy as it was this morning with all the Romans arriving and throwing up chaos. Selena, his younger sister put in charge while they were off interrogating Chiron, looked worn, but ready for battle. Her braid was partly undone, probably from her nervous pulling on it, but her chin and eyes were steady.  She sighed in relief when she saw them, the air, along with any remaining energy, seeming to fall out of her. 

“Anyone bad?” He asked her, snorting when she promptly sprawled on the floor in exhaustion at their arrival.

Selena groaned from her place on the floor, rubbing her greasy, tired eyes. “The charts are on the desk.” She waved to the side vaguely. “Keep an eye on a few of them, I’m just gonna…”

Will laughed under his breath, sparing a glance as she curled into a ball and closed her eyes.

Kayla rolled her eyes in humor, grabbing onto Selena’s arm to pull their sister up and into the nearest cot. They were packed, so it was a long walk.

Will began sorting out the patient charts, passing half over to Kayla when she returned.

“Selena gave me an update - everyone’s pretty much stable. I’ll check on bed nine – some second degree burns. She said there’s a walk–in appointment in bed 16 that she hadn’t managed to get to.” She nodded over to the side of the room, passing over the corresponding chart. It was bare, hardly a page filled out, so it wasn’t hard to assume that it was one of their Roman guests. They were always _so_ chatty and _incredibly_ open to sharing personal information, after all.

Will was nearly dehydrated by his own dry comments at this fact.

Will nodded, reading through the scare words. “Alright, shout if you need anything.” He advised, waving her off as she focused on her work.

He turned into the section, a clipboard tucked to his side, and there was Reyna - the Roman praetor - leaning against the bed. Her shoulders were hard, forced lines, and she gripped onto the side of the bed too roughly, her sharp nails sinking into the soft fabric easily. The darks under her eyes were only highlighted from her too-pale, sickly skin. Will mentally noted these facts, tucking them away for further investigation.

Will flipped open her paperwork - nothing out of the ordinary, no major prior health conditions, not even a reason filled in for her visit today. Their usual conversational tactics, it would seem.  “Praetor, what can I do for you?”

“I need something for the dreams.” She mutters bluntly, adjusting herself once he fully walks in. Her armor hangs off her thin frame in a way that it didn’t months before. He briefly wonders if they had any of her prior medical info on site – he could track her obvious weight loss. A post-battle check-up, perhaps.

Will carefully settles down in the chair next to the bed, attempting to silently give her permission to sit. She continues to stand. “We don’t usually issue out a lot of magical cures, especially for dreams. Chiron says that dreams are too valuable to miss if someone tries to contact us.”

“The gift of prophecy is down.” She tells you, her voice hard as if it was his fault instead of his father’s, “I won’t be missing anything.”

Will keeps his posture even and his chest open, “We all have war dreams.” He tells her, his voice gentle, “Perhaps something to treat PSTD -”

“It’s not that.” She interrupts, slumming against the bed. “I keep...it’s not war dreams. I’ve dealt with dreams from battles, I can handle those.”

“What are you dreaming about?” Will questioned, leaning forward. He wasn’t a therapist, sure, but he was always willing to listen, if needed. Sometimes, talking it through was the best medicine he could provide.

Reyna takes a deep breath. “There’s this boy.” Will’s breath caught in his chest, “He’s...young. 14 or 15, maybe. And he’s in so much _pain_ and there’s nothing I can do about it. Every time I try to run forward, to help him, there’s this _wall_ that blurs and chokes me and…”

“You wake up.” Will finished for her, his head spinning.

“Yes.” She avoids his eyes. “I wake up.”

Will steadies his breath, and the words _I know what you mean - I understand - Me too._ clog his throat, refusing to pass through. Instead, he swallows, suddenly desperate to leave, to _get out._ He writes a quick sleeping drought prescription for Austin to process, and is out the back door before he can throw up all over the infirmary floor.

He dry heaves into the bushes for a few minutes, and realizes he's never felt so alone.

Which…which where did that come from?

He’s not lonely.

He’s not alone.

But oh gods, why is he so alone?   

Even with his sister at his back, rubbing circles into the stiff material of his scrubs, Will can’t shake the feeling that the space beside him is completely void.

“Maybe you should head back to the cabin.” Kayla tells him, pushing an uncapped water bottle into his hands, “Austin’ll come in early.”

Will nodded slowly. The panic in his chest unwinding. What was she saying?

“Will.” Kayla called his attention back. “Go. Austin won’t mind. You’ve been nonstop working the past few weeks, you’re exhausted.”

His chest felt empty, like a giant weight had just been scooped out, but he focused on her words.

He hated when his siblings had to cover for him, but his flipping stomach and sweaty skin wouldn’t help anyone. He might have some kind of bug – what had he eaten today? Why had he gotten so suddenly sick?

“Do you want someone to walk you back?” Kayla asked, helping him up. Her eyes glanced back to the infirmary, a bit worried. “I can wake up Selena –“

“I’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat, taking a long swing of water. “I don’t know what happened…I was talking to…some patient…” His mind was fuzzy, hurting, and he shook his head. “I just felt really nauseous all the sudden.”

Kayla rolled her eyes, “That’s what happens when you’re sick, dumbass. Go home and get some rest or I’ll stick you in the infirmary on ordered bed rest.”

“Ordered bed rest?” He mumbled, unsure why his heart skipped a beat at those words. The weak threat in her words, maybe?

Will waved her off, wiping off his sweaty forehead. “I’ll go.” He promised, standing.

Kayla watched him hobble away with worried eyes, probably a few seconds away from abandoning her infirmary shift just to babysit him home, when she was reluctantly called back into the building.

One of the most convenient things about the placement of their cabin was the short walk. He usually enjoyed it, the small everyday stroll where he could just soak in the camp atmosphere. He could observe the other campers going about their daily activities, or just enjoy the way the white marble of the Zeus cabin glittered in the sun, and the lavish flowers and gardens from the Demeter cabin. His eyes caught on the silver glowing of the Artemis cabin, and the bright blinding gold of his cabin and his eyes drifted off, off into the distance, to the Hades cabin that seemed to be sucking the light from the air around it, the cabin that seemed to be calling him over, the cabin that –

“Will.” He turned, surprised to see Lou Ellen by his side. He hadn’t seen her in a few days – she’d been busying working on some magic thing with her siblings and Chiron. He tried to grin at her, settling for a half-smile when he realized how much effort that look.

“Hey Lou.” He greeted her, swaying a bit. “Listen, I’d love to talk but I’m not feeling –“

“Where's your necklace?” Lou interrupted seriously. She grabbed onto his shoulder, her nails digging into his shoulder too sharply. Her eyes were hard concrete as she pulled down his shoulder to glare straight into his eyes. “Will, _where is your necklace?”_

Will's hand automatically went to pat at his throat, surprised to only feel the soft, worn collar of his shirt and not the small, round beads that had taken up space there for the last few years. “I…lost it.” He realized, surprised, and his voice was now soft with...something. “I didn’t even notice it was gone.”

Lou Ellen swallowed, and when she spoke her voice was rough. It wasn’t her usual light note, he would notice and forget, but rough and low and filled with warning. “Will. You _have_ to find your necklace, okay? You have to look. You have to remember.”

Will pulled himself from her, taking a step back. “Remember?” He reached out, his hand just barely brushing her arm when she jerked back a few steps, stumbling along the way. “Remember what?”

Lou stared up at him with wide eyes, now a few feet away. “What?” She asked, glancing around like she was surprised with her surroundings.

Will blinked, “You were telling me to remember something?” Emotion was filling his chest, anxiety and desperation clawing at each other right under his heart.

“Oh.” Lou blinked a few times, her gaze fixed on the ground. “I think, uh, remember where you put your necklace, or something?” She shook her head, “It’s fuzzy, sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You should go see Kayla.” He said, not really listening to what he was saying, more focused on the urgency that was in Lou’s voice, the desperate plea for him to _remember._  

She nodded, clearly listening to his words as much as he was. “I’m just gonna….go.” Her voice was soft, filled with air, and she turned to walk slowly away.

Had Will been completely himself, not the half-panic, half-exhaustion piece of himself he was at the moment, he would have pursued her, questioned her maybe, walked her back to her cabin, at the least. His gaze snapped up, directly to the darkened cabin across from him.

Maybe he should…

“Will?” His head snapped towards Lukas, standing on their doorstep. His voice was full of concern and confusion, with slightly more of the former. “I thought you were working the morning shift?”

Will gave the Hades cabin one last glance, unsure about what he had been thinking just a moment before. It had seemed important, oddly enough. He turned back to his cabin, climbing the stairs with more sleepiness entering his body every moment. It felt like he was entering the Hypnos cabin instead of his own.

Will shook his head, stumbling a bit as he cross the threshold. “I, I got sick.” He told them, aware of his entire cabin’s lingering eyes. “Kayla sent me home.”

“With good reason.” Hina, only a bit younger than him, told him, wrinkling her nose. “You look horrible. Been hit by any buses this week or something?”

“No more than usual.” He told her, just enough energy left in him to joke. He turned to his brother’s bunk, “Austin, I’m really sorry but could you –“

Austin, seeing his sweaty pale face, stood and began collecting the papers around him. “I can go in early.” He told Will easily, like he had been planning to all along. He grabbed a clean pair of scrubs and bolted, probably figuring Kayla’s sole charge wouldn’t be exactly _necessary_ for continued peace with the Romans.

Marisol, one of his younger siblings, stared at him with wide eyes. “Are you sick, Will? Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary? Sick people go in the infirmary.” She told him this firmly, like he didn’t know.

Will nodded weakly, “I just need some rest, love.” He told her, leaning onto the bed post for support.

“Leave him alone, Mari.” Hina began pushing their siblings out, “We have to get going, c’mon.”

He shot a grateful look her way, unsure if she’d even seen. She turned to salute him on her way out though, so she must have understood.

Will yawned, running a hand through his hair. He was absolutely exhausted. Sickness could do that to you.

Lukas, with worried eyes, escorted the rest of their siblings out, probably to their afternoon rock-climbing class. Will waved him off, barely having enough energy to kick off his shoes and bury himself under his worn comforter.

He was asleep within seconds.

* * *

Will stood, and the shock of a dream, a real dream like _before,_ almost woke him up before he could truly revel in it. He steadied himself before taking a hesitant step forward. He’s in a room, he observes, lit only by the glowing green torches hanging from the walls. He keeps one hand on the wall, brushing his fingertips across the rough stone, and follows the direction of the lights. The place felt familiar, like this is a place he’s comfortable in. Like this unfamiliar place was one he’d been in enough to feel comfortable in.

And within seconds, he discovers there is another person in the room with him.

Will jumped, swallowing down his gasp at the sudden appearance. The compressing darkness was flooding all around him, moving around him, and Will had never felt anything like it. It was suddenly hot, like someone had lit a fire on his skin.

Will leaned in, his heart pounding, but could only see pale skin and long hair. The person was turned from him, cornering themselves, hiding.

From what?

The person was shaking, almost violently, their action going directly against the burning hot room.

Will, taking a step forward, speaks up despite his dry, rough throat. “Are you -”

They flinch away from him, and freeze at his voice. “Help me.” They whisper, barely audible, and every warning signal in Will’s mind is going off and strobing the fuck out.

“What do you need?” And that’s Will’s doctor voice, the one that suppose to be calm in the face of half-dead demigods and absolute death, except now it’s laced with panic and emotion and nothing he’s suppose to feel when he’s calling the shots. He wants to rush forward, look over this person as best as he can, but his legs refuse to move, refuse to follow the simple order of bending and stepping and only remain glued to the floor.

The figure turns towards him impossibly fast, their hands waved out in surrender, and they almost scratch at his shoulders, their fingernails just barely brushing Will’s thin t-shirt, when they disappear just as in the same second they appeared.

* * *

Will bolts up, choking, and is immensely grateful there is no one there to witness him sobbing into his pillow.

He takes a deep breath, the tears hitching in his throat and pauses for a moment. He wipes the tears from his cheeks, staring at the wetness there like a stranger.

_Why was he crying?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title & excerpt at the top taken from 'wildest dreams' by taylor swift.  
> thanks for tagging along for this angst fest.  
> four chapters planned for now, second chapter uploaded soon.  
> Follow me on tumblr for weird 2am tumblr prompts and crying - rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> college is weird but im hoping to be posting more soon. thanks for reading! - Rosy


	2. Chapter 2

_I thought heaven can't help me now_  
_Nothing lasts forever_  
_But this is gonna take me down_

* * *

 The days went on like that.

Not that he noticed. Every nightmare, every shaking reminder of…something, someone? was forgot in an instance.

Everything but the exhaustion, that is. That…was hard to forget.

Will takes on the night shift, along with several cups of too-strong coffee. He hadn’t been sleeping well, probably from the stress that came along with the visiting Roman campers. Every other day there was some kind of battle challenge that would end with several sore losers in his infirmary, and he was getting a bit tired of it.

Literally. The circles under his eyes were starting to match the blackened volcanic ash from the rock climbing area, and it didn’t exactly help his sibling’s worry.

He yawned over his mountain of paperwork, briefly entertaining the idea of sleep. Almost immediately, a bubble of panic grew in his chest, and he dismissed the emotion, and the idea, before he could go into it.

He’s preparing for a quiet night, one just like the last few days, and it isn’t until a bit after midnight when someone stumbles through the doorway.

He shoots to his feet, the person now sobbing in the infirmary doorway, gripping onto the doorway and leaning onto the wood heavily.

“Hazel?” He asked, coming to her side, and in his best doctor voice asks, “Hazel, what’s going on?”

She is unsteady on her feet, shaking a bit, and her hands are clenching tightly at her pajama sleeves.

 “I don’t know why I’m crying.” She gasps, choking on her tears. “I can’t stop. I’m so sad and I can’t stop crying.”

Will - well, Will's the only one on duty, and this late he's used to only treating a few sleep deprived demigods who maybe, who knows, twisted their ankles on their way to the washroom. But she’d crying, almost sobbing, and she almost falls into his arms when he hesitantly steps forward. She clenches onto him, her grief almost a physical thing pressing against them both.

“It's okay.” He tells her automatically, not really sure if everything is. He shifts her weight over to his shoulder, hesitantly lowering her down on the nearest cot. She sobs, her hands coming to clench handfuls of her golden curls.

He swallows down his confusion because, well, this is supposed to be his side of things, right? He helps people, and Hazel clearly needs some.

He carefully untangles her hands from her wild curls, subtly checking over her head for any sign of injury. Finding nothing, he lowers her fists into her lap, pulling a nearby chair behind him so he's seated in front of her.

“Hazel.” His voice is quiet, but strong. “Would you like me to go get someone? Frank, or Reyna?”

She was shaking her head before he could finish. “No –no, I just, I need to know what’s wrong with me. Please, just – help me.”

Will bit his lip, “Tell me what’s wrong, what’s going on.”

“I'm so sad.” She scrubbed at her wet eyes with her fists, “It's like - it's like a piece of me is gone and the empty space is just flooding with sadness.

Will shifted a bit closer, unsure if she needed physical contact to feel better reassured. “I understand dealing with the death of a close friend – “

“It’s not that – it’s not, it’s not Leo.” She bit her lip, her fists growing white as she clenched them as her side. “I know that sounds horrible but it’s not – it’s not about Leo. I had prepared for Leo, I knew it was coming. This sadness in me…it’s not that.”

“I…” Will searched for words, “What is it?”

Hazel hiccupped out another sob, roughly scrubbing her cheeks with her sleeve. Will, with careful hands, took her hands and gently undid them from fists. “We don’t have to talk about it…I just, I don’t really know what to do here.” He shrugged a bit, feeling useless.

“It’s…it’s the nightmares that are really hitting hard.” She told him, her voice soft. “I can’t sleep.”

_Nightmares?_

“Describe them.” He was suddenly ordering her, his voice hard. She jumped a bit, looking confused. He tried a different tone, unsure where this urgency was coming from. “Can you describe them for me? Maybe…maybe that’ll help you work it out.”

Hazel looked unsure, probably in response to his outburst.

She bit her lip, “I…I never remember. I don’t know.”

Will nodded slowly, and that…made sense, weirdly enough. Like it was a fact that fit. “I can give you some unicorn draught for the night.” He retrieved the small bottle for her, taking a moment to fill out a quick prescription. “It’ll…it’s for PTSD.” He said in explanation to the small paper, “Bring it back tomorrow and someone’ll fix it up for you.”

“PTSD?” She questioned, holding the paper to her chest. “Do you think it’ll help?”

Will nodded, his mind suddenly slush. “It helped someone else, I’m pretty sure. They were…they were feeling the same.”

Hazel swallowed, wiping her cheeks. “Sorry for…” She gestured to nothing, probably to the situation. “I don’t…”

“It’s okay.” He reassured her, “It’s my job, you’re completely fine. Honestly, I probably have sat here for the rest of the night doing nothing.”

Hazel gave him a small, not incredibly meaningful, smile. But she allowed herself to be comforted. She deserved it.

No one else came in for the rest of the night, and Will wasn’t sure if he was relieved for miserable.

It would have been hard to treat anyone with his hands shaking as violently as they were.

* * *

Will’s walking with his cabin, leading them towards lunch, and his lips are curled into a smile that feels unnaturally contrast against the dark smears under his barely-open eyes.

A few of the other counselors are walking with him - Mitchell, from Aphrodite, and Nyssa, from Hephaestus, who are excitedly discussing details for whatever new invention she's working on, and Will's _really_ trying to keep up with the conversation, honestly, but it's really not helping that every few seconds his mind decides to fall asleep mid-word, and he’s left behind in the conversation once again.

Why is he even so tired, anyways? He’s been making it a point to go asleep early, trying to both set a good example for the kids and as well for the poor attempt to stifle the many yawns that seem to be erupting lately. His occasional morning shift isn't even that bad, not even that early - eight thirty - but it’s usually pretty boring in there by himself, not hard work at all.  

He stopped for a second, lost in a yawn, and gestured for his siblings to continue on. He’s just working himself up to start moving again, not really prepared for having to make actual conversation with his excitable, wide-eyed cabin mates, when he turns to notice someone lagging behind, standing stiff as he stares ahead.

“Jason!” Will calls, his exhaustion forgotten for a moment. Will jogs up to him, recognizing the stiff, hard lines in his shoulders as the same ones in so many war-torn heroes, and is careful to announce his presence beside the boy.

Jason stared ahead at the dark, empty cabin, his eyes dangerously absent. Will eyed it too, and he was unprepared for the barely concealed emotion that erupted at the sight.

After the first war, with the whole shit show of Kronos, and with Hades swooping in last minute, it was mostly given as a symbolic gesture. They hadn’t known about Hazel then. But with Hazel wrinkling her nose and opting for one of the cots in the Big House, it’s been unoccupied for as long as Will can remember.

Jason shifted next to him, and the air felt stiff with a sudden cold, despite the summer day. “Do you ever feel like something’s missing?”

Will jerked towards him, his heart racing. “What did you just say?” His voice was high, higher than he meant it to be, and he took a deep breath.

Jason swallowed. “I feel like - I feel like there’s something - someone - that we forgot. Like, I’m constantly turning to smile at someone who’s not there, or there’s a name on the tip of my tongue that I just can’t force out...” Jason gave him a wide-eyed look, full of panic and desperation, “Do you think we forgot someone?”

Will gives him a gentle smile, and he reassures him that _of course not of course you didn’t we couldn’t have_ and he couldn’t even believe in his own words. But the lines in Jason's shoulder even out just the tiniest bits, and Jason lets himself be comforted for a single moment.

Will desperately, _desperately_ wished he could say the same.

* * *

He starts to drift off, jerking awake last minute and taking another swing of coffee.

“Haven’t you been working all day?” Hina glared down at him, her eyes laced with suspicion, taking the chart out of his hands. “Why are you still here?”

“I work the night shift, remember?” His sentence was very rudely cut off half way by a long, jaw-popping yawn. To cover this up, he quickly picked up a pen and began filling out the nearest form.

“No you’re not.” She instantly dismissed him, gesturing towards the door.

“It’ll be a boring night, I’ll sleep most of it.” He lied, focusing on paperwork in front of him. It was boring, mostly just supply orders, but it had to be done. Usually by one of the younger kids unprepared for going solo just yet, but no one would call him out on it.

Proving him wrong, Hina plucked the pen from his hand, “That’s Marisol and Kiren’s job and you know it.” She rolled her eyes, hulling him to his feet. “The bags under your eyes are dark enough to be bruises. Go to sleep before I sedate you.”

Will rolls his eyes, collecting his things. “I’m fine.” He tells her, mostly just to have the last word.

She pointed to the door, “Go. I’ll cover you. If you rush back you can say goodnight to the kids, get a move on.”

Will scoffed at that, but stood. “Like they’ve actually ever been in bed on time.”

Hina glared at him. “Go to sleep. This whole ‘worry about Will’ thing is getting old.”

He sighed, already half way out the door, and didn’t bother answering.

She was right, he knew. And it wasn’t like he _wanted_ to worry any of them – he was trying to sleep, he really was, but…it wasn’t working, he guessed.

He passed a few of the cabins, snorting at the near chaos spilling out of the Aphrodite cabin. He had no idea how Mitchell and Piper managed it. The Athena cabin, as usual, was already dark and quiet – a good twenty minutes before lights out. Of course, there were _also_ the usual sparks of light from within, probably from each camper’s reading flashlight. Somethings, he was grateful for, never changed.

He heard the kids before he caught sight of them, which was also to be expected.

“Will!” They both screeched in excitement.

Kayla shot him an annoyed glance, a rare look on her face. “We _just_ got them to calm down.” She complained.

He winced. _Sorry_ he mouthed, pulling both of them into a hug. He hadn’t been spending enough time with them lately, he knew.

“Alright.” He pushed them away lightly, keeping a hand on each of their heads. “It’s bedtime, let’s get going.”

Marisol was the first one to push away, showing off her gap-tooth grin. She climbed onto her bed, Kiren following, and swept off the top layer.

“I’m the Queen of the Night!” Marisol announced, holding her blanket around her neck like a cape. “And Queens don’t have a bedtime!”

“And I am the King of Darkness!" Kiren copied quickly, grinning widely. “Kings don’t get a bedtime either!”

Will froze at that, the laughter that was climbing up his throat suddenly choking him. He was paralyzed at those words, unable to move or speak or _breath_ and none of his siblings noticed, not yet, but Will was suddenly frozen with the memory of a dream he'd maybe, probably had last night. There was a flash of pale skin - messy dark hair with purple half moons gathering under the eyes - and darkness, oh god, so much darkness suffocating him, and pushing on him and where was he – where was _he_ -

And the image - the emotion, the _panic_ \- was suddenly slipping through his fingers like watery paint, and seconds later he was confused, staring at his siblings.

“You okay?” Lukas asked him, giving him a look. “You kinda froze for a second there.” His siblings were looking at him in concern and _fuck,_ wasn’t that _just_ what he swore to stop from happening?

“I’m good.” He answered back immediately, running a hand through his hair. What had he been thinking about, just moments before? It was…important, he thought.

“Okay.” Lukas gave him an unsure look, and Will snapped back to him.

“I’m gonna…go.” Will slipped on his shoes, ignoring their protests. He tried to tune out the kid’s low whines, the one that usually had him wrapped around their little fingers, and stepped away from them.

“It’s almost lights out.” Kayla frowned, “Hina’s covering you.”

“Get the kids tucked in, I’ll be back later.” He said this as he was stepping off the porch, out of their cabin like a bullet.

He began walking, his siblings would quickly noticed as the days went by. He’d leave at the break of dawn, or the middle of the night. Sometimes, someone would say something – never particularly remarkable - and he’d just…leave. Hina followed a few days later, once, just to see where the hell he was going. She came back, a bit pale, and only reported that he mostly stuck to the cabin circle. Especially the far side - especially the Hades cabin.

“An obsession with death can happen after a near-death experience.” Kayla’s voice was soft, quiet, “Maybe the whole battle mess is just starting to catch up with him.”

“I don’t think…did he ever really process it? What happened?” Selena bit her lip, her hands clenching onto each other. They were at lunch, a meal more than often skipped by their counselor.

“What happened?” Kiren’s small voice asked, and they all winced at their unsubtleness. They had hoped they were being quiet – or at least quiet enough that the kids wouldn’t notice. A bad plan, they’re just now noticing, as they were all gathered in an obvious half-circle, whispering to each other.

Kayla leaned down a bit, letting Kiren’s young eyes meet her unsteady gaze. “Do you remember when we explained what happened to Octavian to you and Marisol?”

He nodded. “He died in front of Will.”

Kayla nodded, “Yes. We think seeing that maybe hurt Will, but his wounds didn’t show up till now.”

Kiren nodded. “Like mind sickness.”

“Like some mental disorders, yes.” She bit her lip, a bit unsure of how to explain it. “We’re trying to help him, but he doesn’t us to.”

“Do it anyways.”

She sighed. “You can’t

Kiren wrinkled his nose. “That’s stupid.”

It was Austin who spoke up this time, “Yeah.” He agreed, putting his hand on Kiren’s shoulder. “It really, really is.”

* * *

His siblings are waiting for him when he enters the cabin, which automatically puts him on edge.

“Hey.” He greets them, still frozen in the doorway, his voice tentative. “Nice seeing you all…here. Waiting.”

“Have a seat, Will.” Kayla’s voice is soft and comforting, but her words shoot a bolt of panic through him that does the exact opposite.

He sits on the nearest bunk – Marisol’s. It’s covered in bright, peeling stickers, and a few faded pictures. He’s in one of them, he notices off-hand, grinning like he hadn’t in months.

“What’s going on?” He asks, his voice just as cautious.

Kayla takes a deep breath, clearly in charge of this whole…thing. Whatever it is.

“Trust me, everyone in this cabin knows how horrible true the phrase ‘a doctor is the worst patient’ is.” A few of his siblings nodded in sympathy, “We all hate getting treated as much every other demi-god but…” Kayla paused, biting her lip and tucking on her multi-colored hair. 

“We want to talk to you about getting some help.” Lukas finished for her, his gaze steady and even.

Will leaned back, mostly in confusion. “Help? What? Is this –“ Will paused, glancing around the room at his siblings, noticing the absence of the younger ones. When he finally spoke his voice was high, “Is this an _intervention?”_

“Calm down, Will.” Hina instructed, managing not to roll her eyes. “We’re just concerned. Chill out.”

Will resisted the urge to stand and pace around the cabin.”About _what?_ I’m fine!”

Selena bit her lip, “Will you haven’t been sleeping. Like, at all.”

“You’re constantly just staring into space.” Kayla told him, “It took me five tries yesterday to get our attention.”

“And you don’t eat as much as you used to.” Hina commented, her voice blunt. “You’ve just been…sad.”

“What are you trying to say?” Will swallowed a bubble of air, attempting to give some release to the knot forming in his throat.

“We think that maybe you’re depressed.” Austin finally spoke up, his first contribution to the conversation.

“Depression is a chemical imbalance; it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Lukas told him seriously.

Will huffed out a breath, “I’m not embarrassed! I just, I’m fine, okay? I’ve been having nightmares and sometimes I can’t sleep.”

“We know.” They all stared a glance, which didn’t help his mood.

“Guys, listen…” Will shook his head, “I’m fine. I’ve just…been busy. There’s so much going on right now, I’ve just been forgetting to sleep. It’s fine. _I’m_ fine.”

There was a moment of silence, much too long for Will’s liking, before Hina was shrugging, hiding her concern just as she always had.

“If you say so.” She said, her voice dismissive. She turned, grabbing onto Lukas’s arm to pull him away. With uncertain eyes, Austin and Selena followed.

Will breathed out a sigh of relief, unsure why he felt so burdened with the thought of his dreams.

“Just think about it.” Kayla’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, and her eyes were even heavier. “We…got a prescription for you, just in case. It’s on your bed.”

She left, following the rest of their siblings. They were worried about him, which he loved them for, but he’s fine.

_He’s fine._

Will stares at the plain bottle for a long moment, his hands shaking, his eyes blurry. He read the back, noting the generic ingredients, before sighing.

A pill and half a sip of water later, he was asleep.

* * *

When he falls asleep he wakes up, which, strangely, he feels almost used to despite hardly ever happening.  The green torches around him do nothing to provide warmth, quite the opposite. He clenches his arms close to him, trying to rub warmth into them.

“Hello?” He calls out, vaguely remembering something someone had told him, something about prophecy being down. “…Dad?” He tentatively tries, hoping for the best.

A boy, draped and hidden by the shadows, steps forward.

“Will.” He whispers, his voice as muted as the darkness around him. The darkness…moves around him. It shields away from the low light that comes off the torches, clinging to the boy’s skin.

“Who are you?” Will chokes back, confused about the sudden tightening of his throat. “Did you…did you bring me here?”

“ _Will.”_ He whispers again, “Will, where are you?”

Will is crying, he realizes, and it’s like his body has gone into mourning without Will’s consent. “Who are you?” He repeats, desperate. “Ple – please just, tell me who you are.”

The boy throws himself forward, and Will has just a moment to catch sight of dark brown eyes before everything – including the boy – flashes away.

Will wakes up, barely choking down a scream, and wonders what the hell is going on.  

He sits up, tangled and sweaty in his too-thick comforter, and has a quick moment of confusion. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, quite the opposite, he thinks. But even with the addition of the nap – he yawns – he still feels absolutely exhausted.

He rubs a hand over his face, surprised to find his face equally as sweaty as the rest of him. He throws the blankets off him, stumbled into a pair of shoes, and starts walking.

* * *

It’s a rare morning for him in the infirmary. A nice rare, for once. Selena, along with a tall, fat cup filled to the absolute brim with his favorite coffee, had joined him along for the end of his night shift. He still had a bit of time before his relief came, but the rest of the coffee that he hadn’t drowned on sight was there to comfort him.

Along with, it seems, Selena’s annoying, prodding questions.

“You haven’t been out with anyone in awhile.” Selena teased, balancing on the edge of his chair. “It’s been what…since the battle?” She whistled, “That’s almost a record for you.”

Will laughed, easy and light. “You _know_ I’m taken.”

Selena cocked her head to the side, “You are? Since when?” She jumped up, suddenly excited, “Wait, did you start dating someone when I wasn’t looking?”

Will stumbled a bit in his laughter. He didn’t…mean to say that. He was as single as fuck. It was a known fact. “I’m married to my work.” He covered up easily, enjoying the way she immediately switched to a pout. “Gods, you’re almost as bad as the Aphrodite kids.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, “What, just because I want my brother to be happy?”

“I _am_ happy.” He answered, a bit surprised with how…weird it was to say those words. “Anyways, Lukas and that Demeter girl have been broken up for a week; don’t you think it’s time to go bother him about that?”

She rolled her eyes, accepting the change in subject. “Lukas is a sensitive soul.” She told him, her voice lecturing. “He’s still in chick-flicks and ice cream phase, leave him alone.”

Will rolled his eyes, “If you say so.” He allows her, his paperwork mostly a mess of half-finished doodles.

“Nice drawing.” Selena commented, peeking over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were so into…skulls.”

Will shrugged, suddenly protective of the stupid pictures he had thoughtlessly drawn. He folded the paper, slipping it into his pocket, and he was so incredibly unsure of why he felt he had to.

“Who’s coming in later?”

“Austin.” She picked at her nails, a bad habit of hers. He was tempted to call her out on it, but briefly decided he liked living more. “He should be here in a few minutes.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I thought he wasn’t coming in till later?”

Selena rolled her eyes, pointing to the clock.”It’s later.”

 “Oh.” Will glanced to the clock, “I…I lost track of time, I guess.”

Selena nodded her head towards the door. “You know Lukas is starting to track your hours. Get out of here before you go into overtime.”

Will sighed, reluctant despite the wariness that was deep in his bones. He was in that stage of exhaustion where his body ached with every moment.

“I’m going to sleep.” He held up his hands in surrender as he entered the cabin, “I’m on my way to dreamland this moment.”

Austin nodded in approval, turning down his dagger glare. “Good. Your bed’s growing dust at this rate.” He eyed Kayla and Marisol laughing in the corner, “Give me a moment, I’ll kick everyone out.” 

“No, don’t – “ Will sighed at being completely ignored as the girls immediately jumped up at Austin’s request.

“Thank me once the color comes back into your face.” Austin sarcastically patted his cheeks, and Will resisted the urge to flip him off. At least until Marisol was out of sight.

Austin laughed, flipping him right back as he disappeared.

Will sighed, grateful for the quiet at least. He couldn’t remember the last really good nap he’d had, and he was sure this would be it, or at least he hoped -

And Lou Ellen was suddenly there, in the doorway, where she hadn’t been moments before.

Will jumped, “Damn, Lou.” He nodded at her, “You scared me, announce yourself next time, won’t you?”

Lou Ellen was staring at him a bit too intensely, and her next words were barely traced around her lips. “Your necklace is under the bed.” She told him, her voice monotone.

Will shot her a confused, if slightly concerned, look. “You saw it?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes.” She answered, her voice the same empty tone. “Under your bed.”

Her eyes flicker to the bed, her face slack and her eyes empty.

Will slowly nodded, not quite understanding, before asking, “Are you feeling okay, Lou?”

At the sound of her nickname she snapped out of it - whatever it was - and shook her head, shaking whatever thought out, and the color returned to her face.

“I’m fine.” She smiled, the action a bit weak. “Just…weird dream last night.” She glanced around, as if surprised she was there.

Will nodded, not really understanding, but glad the empty tone in her voice was gone. “Alright, well, if you’re feeling bad later on just let me know, okay? I’m gonna take a nap but the infirmary’s always open.”

She smiled, still a bit off. “I’ll talk to you later. Good luck finding your bracelet, or whatever.”

Will stared after her for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened, but dismissed it, feeling a bit less drained. After all, with two long weeks of no camp necklace, it seemed he finally had a lead.

Will peeked under the bed frame and - sure enough - the leather and beads sat clumped in a small pile - just at the edge of the shadows. He grinned in victory, making a mental note to thank Lou Ellen later despite her weirdness - and crawled down to get a better reach.

He dug under his bed, his necklace just out of reach, and he was half under his bed when his hand skims the surface of cool metal.

His hand freezes, shaking for a reason he doesn’t know. He forces his fingers to clench around the object before pulling it close. It is unnaturally cold, and even from the brief contact he's had with it, he can feel the layers of dust coating the piece. Will, with his breath catching in his chest, holds the object up to his eyes. It was a…

A ring. A skull ring.

This resonates through him, and he wonders, only briefly, when the hell he bought a skull ring. The dull silver shines in the light and against the tan of his skin. He clenches at it, and his vision blurs with suddenly angry tears.

_Why are you crying? Why are you always crying?_

The metal is cold in his hands, freezing almost.

_Why are you crying?_

The ring imprints it's design into the softness of his palm, the sharp edges poking painfully. Hot, damp tears splash onto his wrist.

**_WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS CRYING?_ **

He gasps, his legs going out from under him, and he fell ungracefully hard to the ground, the ring clattering away uselessly. Will grips at his head, pulling at his hair, a silent scream scratching away at his throat. His head aches, pounds even, and his body shakes uncontrollably.

Something….someone…

_N..._

The shadows in the cabin only grow darker, and by the time the blackness starts to overcome him and the searing pain, the overwhelming question screaming in his mind breathes back an answer - impossibly quiet yet cutting off the pain in only a second.

_Nico._

He gives into the darkness.

* * *

“What in Hades are you looking for?” You grin, a bubble of happiness in your chest that you are slightly unfamiliar with. The air is tinted slightly with a faded soft yellow, and the air seems dusty with age, even though your cabin is bursting with activity every day. You don't notice this now, how everything except the moment seems aged and old, but you’ll remember it.

Nico throws his hands up, frustration in every line of his body. Even with messy, tangled bed head, morning breath, and stained pajama bottoms, he is beautiful.  

You've missed that beauty.

You stop for a second. Why would you have missed it? You've seen Nico everyday this summer, but the hole in your chest feels like it's been empty for months. Nico begins to speak, and the thought vanishes.

“I-I can't find it.” His voice is quiet, the way he gets when he’s confused. He is half under your bed, his hand patting around on the wood.  

You smile slightly, and you jump off your bed to get on your knees with him. “I found your ring last night, dork. Remember?”

He looks at you then, and his eyes are dark and red and wild. You lean back, startled, because just a moment ago, a single moment ago, he was laughter and dancing eyes. “I'm not looking for my ring.” He stares at you, and you've never thought someone's gaze could have such a physical presence on you before. “I’m looking for you.” His voice was suddenly a gasp, and the air was so much full than it had been a moment before. “Why aren’t you looking for me?” Nico’s voice was hysterical and high, and he began clawing his way through the air towards you.

You reach towards him as well, his panic contagious, but with the air so much thicker, and the space between you suddenly so much wider, it’s nearly impossible. The yellowness in the air fades away to gray, and it darkens with every moment.

Desperate emotion is unleashed in your chest, and despite the moments before, it’s like you can’t remember ever seeing the other boy.  

“ _Where are you?_ ” Nico yells, his screaming voice matching the angst on his face. “I’m looking for you everywhere but _I can’t find you!”_

You takes a deep breath of too-full air and feels like you’d just run several miles, instead of fighting to cross the few inches previously separating them.

“I’ll find you.” You promised, unsure and knowing at the same time. “I swear on the River Styx Nico, _I will find you.”_

He fades against the blackness and your hands only barely, just barely, brush each other through the black.

_Nico._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my poor sad bbs  
> finals are coming up, but I'm hoping to get another chapter out before that hell fest starts up.  
> Thanks for kind reviews! They really keep me going :)  
> title & excerpt at the top from 'wildest dreams' by taylor swift  
> Follow me on tumblr for weird 2am tumblr prompts and crying - rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> \- Rosy


	3. Chapter 3

_And his voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever_

* * *

 “Will.” Kayla’s voice was steady and soft, and Will knew this as her doctor’s voice, her patient calming voice that she used on their worst cases. “Will, I need you to wake up.”

And he did just that, his eyes snapping open and half off the bed before his sister could catch him.

“ _Whoa,_ ” She wrapped her arms around his waist before he could hit the ground, pulling him back on the bunk. “Will, it’s okay, it’s Kayla, you’re in the cabin, you’re safe, it’s okay.”

He gasped against her shoulder, his mind racing. “Something’s…something’s wrong.”

“Will…” Her voice was a sigh, “Will, you were crying in your sleep, I had to wake you up. It’s okay, it was just a nightmare, it was just a dream.”

“It…was just a dream?” And that, that sentence calmed down his mind in almost an instant. His mind accepted that sentence as concrete, sincere, absolute fact, and it made complete sense as he considered it. It was just a dream. Everything he’d seen, everything about that boy –

_That boy –_

**That. Boy.**

Nico.

**Nico.**

_That boy is **Nico.** _

Will was out of the bed in a second, tripping over the tangling sheets around his legs in his hurry. He grabbed onto Kayla’s shoulder, leaning most of his tired weight on her. His body was aching with exhaustion, almost as usual, but his mind – _his mind_ was racing and bumping with this knowledge, with this memory.

“Gather the Romans.” Will choked out, hanging off his sister’s arm. “And....others.”

“All the Romans? Why?” Kayla frowned, holding up Will’s weight. “Will, what’s going on?”

“No...no, just...just Reyna and Hazel. And Frank. Those Romans, I think.” Will worked on evening out his heaving chest, his thoughts still jumbling and his mind still racing.

“What’s going on?” She tried again.

Will gathered his strength to stand on his own, and he pushed himself off the bunk, swaying slightly. He grabbed a nearby notebook, worn and stained, and scribbled out a small list of names on the wrinkled paper, the names flowing out of him as easy as air. These were the people, the ones that would, that would _maybe_ remember,

Will’s mind automatically shielded itself away from the name, the thought too bright and too encompassing to think, like how the sun was too bright, or a flame was too hot, his mind just couldn’t bear to think -

He shook his head, digging his thumb into the soft spot of his palm. Distraction, getting lost in his thoughts, was dangerous.

 _Nico_ he reminded himself, the memory yellow and aged. The dimple in his cheek, the pale of his skin, the thin grooves of his wrist – Will reminded himself of these facts as he stood there, as he fought the clouds in his mind.

He shoved the list towards his sister, straightening. “I need you to round up these people and have them meet me at the Big House in ten, alright?”

Kayla stared at him for a long moment, confused and guarded, now clenching the folded paper. “You haven’t been this passionate about something in weeks.” She observed, biting her lip. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll do this for you. Where are you going?”

Will, finally getting his footing, leaned against the cabin doorway, looking back at her. “I need to make a stop.”

* * *

“I need something.”

Lou swallowed, looking pale and tired in the shadows of her cabin. “Come in.”

Lou’s siblings were quiet and watchful as Will shuffled in. He launched into his story quickly, softly, keeping the words for himself and Lou.

“Did you…do you know? What’s going on?”

Lou blinked, nodding. “There’s something not right in the air.” Her eyes went glossy, “We…we can all feel it.” She gestured vaguely towards her siblings, still lost in the moment. “Whatever’s going on, it’s rooted in magic.”

“You remembered the necklace.” He told her softly, and that seemed to jolt something in her.

“The necklace is very important.” She told him seriously, her voice steel. “You need to remember that.”

Will nodded, reminding himself of worn black fabric to keep himself focused. “I need something to keep my thoughts clear.”

Lou nodded, and Will had to blink back the film that she wanted to hide herself in, from the mist that she was trying to wrap herself in. It was a subconscious defensive perimeter she used often, he knew this, and he had to reach out to ground her.

“Lou.”  - Feathery dark hair, and glowing green reflecting off dark eyes – “I need you to help me.”

She swayed, and Will hadn’t noticed how tired she looked, how much this darkness had affected her. Meralda stood – the second in command under Lou – and Will was surprised to see how pale the tanned girl had grown, and the hollowness of her cheeks. “I’ll get it.” She told Will, leading Lou over to one of the beds. “Lou’s been busy, I’ll handle this one.”

One of the younger kids handed something to Meralda to examine, and she did so for a long moment. She muttered a few words over the piece; her eyes and skin glowing not unlike his did when he healed. She held out the piece – a long plain silver chain, and let him take it for himself.

“I don’t know what’s going on.” Meralda told him, hugging one of the kids close to her. “But something _is_ wrong. If a simple steadying piece will fix that…” She gestured towards the air, and a few rogue sparks glittered through the air. “Take it. Please. Help us fix this.”

Will nodded, “Thank you.” He bowed his head, unlinking the chain. He paused, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small object. He hung it around the chain – his permanent, steadying reminder, and circled the chain around his throat.

And almost instantly, his thoughts were singular, his thoughts were clear and quiet and clean. No longer did the jumble and fight, and it was like the first moment of calm after a tornado, the moment when the first clear breath could be drawn.

“I had to go.” His hand clung to the chain, clung to the ring. “Thank you…I…thank you.”

Meralda nodded, accepting this and bowing her head.

He made his way to the Big House, unsurprised to see the entire list there when he entered. Kayla had followed through, thank the gods.

Reyna and Frank, both in their full praetor gear. Percy and Annabeth, both dressed in sweats, clearly dragged from one of their sparring sessions. Hazel and Frank, with Piper and Jason, in pajamas, tense and nervous on the couch. Chiron was waiting at the door,  greeting him as he entered. They all looked confused to be there. Tired, too. Tired, mostly.

“William? I believe you called this emergency meeting?” Chiron’s voice was neutral with emotion, clear, but still existing with clear question.

Now, standing in front of them all, his mind more settled and clear then it had been in weeks, Will was suddenly overcome with nervous energy he hadn’t known existed in his bone tired body. ”I need to, I need to talk to you guys about something. Something important.”

“Is it about a prophecy?” Percy asked, looking pained as the words left his mouth. Everyone knew about his newfound hesitantly when it came to demigod matters.

“No.” He answered, actually a bit unsure as the word left his mouth. “No, uh, I think. It’s about something else entirely.”

There was a beat of silence as they waited for Will to speak, and as Will struggled with the words that didn’t want to leave his mouth.

“I’ve been having dreams.” Will told him, and those four words alone made few others in the room tense. “Weird dreams. Nightmares, mostly. About…” He took a deep breath, steadying his broken voice. “About this boy. He needs us, he needs our help, I think.”

There was nothing in the air for a long moment, as Will finished his words. He felt ridiculous for a moment, and he was close to excusing it all, dismissing it and going back to his cabin. Until his hand wrapped around the long chain, mostly out of instinct, and his palm brushed the heavy ring hanging there. That calmed him in a moment, and he felt he could breathe easy, if just for a moment.

“You - you’ve been having them too?” Hazel finally choked out, her body loose with relief. “You’ve been seeing _him._ ”

And Will had a single image, a single ghost of a touch, that brought him to sometime ago, of sobs bouncing off the walls, of a fist curled into the fabric of his chest, of familiar words being broken into the air –

and the image was gone, slipping through his fingers, as Annabeth, always the curious one, spoke up, a question in her voice and on her face.

“Seeing who?”

“ _Him.”_ Reyna muttered, and wasn’t that strangely familiar. Her fists, clenched around the soft cotton of the couch, her skin pale and eyes dark with her words. “I have also been having dreams of a boy. Perhaps…perhaps the same boy.”

“Pale…dark hair.” Jason told them, his words passing over them before anyone could absorb them.

“I haven’t been having any dreams like that.” Annabeth admitted, “But... something weird is happening. Stuff hasn’t been adding up. And whenever I think about it, like really consider it, the thoughts just...float away.”

“Like what thoughts?” Chiron questioned, his eyes sharp and dark with thoughts he wasn’t ready to share.

“Like.” Annabeth licked his lips, clearly needing a moment to gather her thoughts. “Who was there when Percy and I fell into Tartarus? And who opened the Doors of Death?”

Although flinching away at the casual mention of the Hell he had spent so much time occupying, Percy didn’t hesitate to speak up. “Hazel.” He answered promptly, “She promised to be on the other side.”

The girl herself looked a bit unsure. “I remember being there.” She allowed them, her fingers a knotted clump in her lap.“But...everything else is kind of fuzzy.”

“But _who_ is he?” Piper wondered aloud. “He must be a demigod, right?”

“I’ve already checked within the Roman camp.” Reyna spoke, and it wasn’t difficult for Will to notice how much darker the circles under her eyes had become. “There is no missing camper nor anyone who fits within the familiar criteria.”

“But…if no one remembers him, that wouldn’t matter, would it?” Piper wondered aloud, leaning in thought.

Jason’s face darkened, “Do you think this is Hera’s doing? It wouldn’t be the first time she did this kind of thing.”

Annabeth’s face was screwed up with distaste. “That’s _always_ a possibility.” She spat out, the words bitter in her mouth.

Will steadied himself on the couch for his next sentence, one hand still pressing against the ring on his chest.

“His name’s Nico.” Will breathed out softly, and the words passed over them like a wave.

Jason stumbled back, clenching at his head, and grabbed onto the nearby sofa to steady himself. Percy, already stiff, locked his bones and pulled them in closer to himself, an uncharacterized movement from his usual loose, sprawled out self.

Hazel only nodded, a bit dazed. _“Nico.”_ She tried out, the movement of her mouth familiar but the sound anything but.

“Nico.” Jason repeated, breathing out the name. Percy jolted this time, blinking widely. Annabeth was at his side in a second, her soft words already at his ear. When he finally looked up at the group, he was shaking, gripping at Annabeth’s hand.

“He...he was a son of Hades.” Percy whispered into the quiet of the room, his eyes wide as he turned them on Annabeth. “We found him when we were...thirteen. With his sister. Don’t you...don’t you remember?”

“I have siblings?” Hazel’s voice was incredulous and soft, and just a bit overwhelmed. Will circled his hand on her elbow, knowing it was the right thing to do, but his mind racing and his heart jumping with every new, familiar realization.

Annabeth blinked, her awed expression matching Percy’s perfectly. “Bob mentioned him...in Tartarus, he said that Nico told him you were worth saving....Nico was the reason we got out, wasn’t he?”

“We haven’t all had these...visions.” Piper hesitated. “I...can’t even remember any of this.”

Frank bit his lip, leaning forward and speaking up for the first time in the conversation. “I haven’t noticed anything neither.”

“Maybe it’s only those who were close with him...we’re assuming that he’s been erased somehow, correct?” Annabeth kept her gaze low, her eyes flickering with new information. “Perhaps it is a more sophisticated spell than the one performed on Percy and Jason. Instead of this boy’s memory being erased, _he_ was erased.”

“Each of us whom have seen him, we must have a connection with...this boy, right?” Jason stumbled over his words, seeming unsure.

“I would believe so.” Reyna’s gaze flickered over them, “Hazel, Jason, Will and I have reported seeing...Nico in our dreams.” She almost stumbled over his name, but recovered perfectly, continuing her observation. “Percy and Annabeth have remembered him a bit. So that means he must be important to us.”

“W-what are we going to do?” Will stood, his hand running through his hair. He suddenly had so much energy, none of the bone deep exhaustion from the past few weeks, and he had to move, twitch suddenly.

Chiron stood, his face unreadable. “I order you all not to pursue this.” He told them, taking an extra moment for his gaze to settle on Will. “This is clearly very dangerous magic, and I will not have any of my campers messing around in it. I will pursue this on my own with the assistance of my peers, I will handle this.” His eyes were heavy on each one of them as they spoke. “Do you understand?”

There was a sea of nods, most hesitated, almost all lying. Chiron seemed to be satisfied with this, almost relieved. He shooed them out before they could start another round of questioning, or worst, another round of remembering.

They all poured out of the building, the cool air of the night brushing over their hot, flushed skin like cold relief. They each had so much inside of them, so much emotion that was constantly conflicting each other, so much darkness that clung to their insides, that the cold air of the night, the icy nighttime breeze, relieved them each so much, just for a moment.

Will took a deep breath, needing to just focus on the full air in his lungs and the frosty dew tangling around his ankles.

Will used to love nights like this.

And he thinks...he thinks Nico liked them too. It seems like something they would love together.

Reyna caught his gaze, jutting her chin towards the shadows. Will was surprised with how much he trusted her, following her. He followed her behind a building - the camp store, he briefly noticed - and almost stumbled into her at her abrupt stop.  

Jason and Hazel, already waiting cross-legged in the grass, glanced up at their arrival. They glanced at Will, but both of their gazes switched back to Reyna as they sat down.

“We have to do something.” Reyna simply stated, “Chiron will not be able to solve this on his own

“But Chiron - “

“Has no say over I. Or my soldiers.” She shot a meaningful glance to Hazel, who nodded. She continued, “I understand that if neither of you two wish to join because of Chiron’s restriction -”

“I’ll join.” Jason and Will shared the air as the spoke over one another, sure and confident in their declaration.

Reyna nodded, accepting this. 

“What about Percy? And Annabeth? They remembered him too.” Jason frowned, crossing his arms. “They can help.”

Reyna cut her glare to the other boy. “You and I both know that Percy and Annabeth wish to be out of the game that the gods insist on throwing them in. They’ve been through literal hell and they require rest.” Reyna’s gaze softened a bit, “Afterall, neither of them have been having the dreams or visions that we all have been suffering from, they only remembered him on prompt. There’s no need to drag them into this.”

Jason, still looking unsure, nodded.

Hazel bit her lip, swallowing. “What’s the plan? Chiron banned all activity but...we have to do something, right?”

Jason looked up at that, his eyes calculating. “I think...I think I may have an idea.”

* * *

“Clovis.” Will’s voice was as serious as sin, and every bit as dangerous. He entered the cabin without invitation, and lead the few others with him. “We need you to do us a favor.”

Clovis rubbed at his eyes, squinted at the open door. “It’s...night.” He finally slurred out. His curly was permanently rumpled, and today - tonight? - was no different. Already, only a few steps and a few seconds in the Hypnos cabin, Will’s skin started to warm, and his eyes started to droop. That earlier exhaustion, the one he was so used to now a days, was back at full force, and he stifled a yawn to listen to the other boy’s words.

“I...understand when people wake me up during the day but... _at night_? Really?” He paused for a long yawn, popping his jaw as he did so. “Nighttime is _meant_ for sleep.”

Will let out a sigh through his nose, fighting the tired sway overtaking his body. “Clovis, this is _important.”_

He squinted at them for a long moment, such a long moment that Will was starting to question whether falling asleep standing up was a Hypnos kid trait, before he spoke up.

“What do you need?” He finally asked, his sleepy eyes drifting over to the three people standing behind him. “And why does it have to do with two Romans and a Zeus kid?”

Reyna scowled but, like they talked about, let Will do the talking. “We think our memories have been erased.” Will told him, and the words were hard to get out. “We think the memory of one person - a boy - has been taken for each of us, and we need to remember him.”

Behind him, Hazel was shifting her weight back and forth, pulling the loose sweatshirt around herself even tighter, tucking at the sleeves. Will licked his lips, continuing. “We need you to put us under, see if we can recover anything.”

“Like you did with me.” Jason added on, clarifying. “When I first came to camp, you tried it on me to remember.” Clovis’s slow eyes flickered to the other boy, lingering on each of the girls, before meeting Will’s.

“Does Chiron know?” He asked, the weary, or sleepy, tone in his voice already half-answering the question.

“No.” Reyna finally spoke up, her chin up in a show of regal sophistication. “And we would prefer if this was able to be kept between us.”

Clovis nodded slowly, either comprehending or still pulling himself out of sleep. “I’ll do it.” He told them, cracking his fingers together. “Lay down, go on.” He told them, gesturing to the inviting empty bunks, all filled luxuriously with soft pillows and thick blankets. Clovis’s eyelids looked very close to sliding shut again, and he had to shake himself awake to keep standing.

They each began to quickly prepare for bed, each relieved that Clovis had been slowly agreeable. Reyna, as she undid the buckles of her long cape and tucked her braid into a bun, eyed him with wary emotion, unwilling to let herself hope. Hazel smoothed back her messy curls, tying them up, and quietly toed off her boots. She was quiet, unsure, but desperate for any answers. Jason caught sight of that desperation - familiar in all of them at this point - as he shrugged off his jacket and carefully placed his sword to the side. They all settled into bed slowly, the sleepy air of the cabin already starting to weight them down, as Clovis dragged his feet over to one of the bedside tables.

“What’s that?” Will slurred out, his eyes threatened to shut.

Clovis snapped on the thin bracelet. “Hephaestus cabin made a few for us.” He held up his wrist, showing off the thin, silver piece of tech. “Keeps me awake for a few minutes while I deal with this.”

He walked over to Hazel first, already curled up and half passed out on her arm, and he lightly touched her forehead and whispered a few words.

He did the same to Reyna, and as Clovis was reaching for Jason, Will’s body simply could do it anymore, and fell into the comforting darkness.

It was quiet, and Will was aware of the silence of his dream in a way he never had been before. There was nothing, only darkness that surrounded and protected him from every angle, so unlike the black that choked him to screams.

And suddenly there was color dripping through the darkness, like a wax painting melting. The first few streaks of color were stark across the darkness, until there were so many streaks a picture - a scene - was formed.

“-kids they brought in? That real young one, Nick or something, he’s a child of _Hades.”_

And Will recognized that voice, basically worshiped that voice, and in one moment to the next, his older brother, Lee Fletcher, was painted sitting across from him in one of the crappy wooden tables in the Mess Hall, casually sharing gossip with his siblings. He flipped his hair - back when the Beiber cut was cool - and Will vaguely remembered his older sisters giggling at that, teasing Lee how he thought that made him look _so cool._

He forgot about that.

“Don’t spread rumors about the poor kid.” Victoria - Will’s older sister who’d actually got out and attended medical school two year prior - frowned down at Lee, a crease in her brow and a dimple in her cheek. “Who _knows_ what actually happened.”

“ _Percy_ knows.” Lee told her, insistence and a slight whine in his voice, “He saw the _whole_ thing. I overheard him telling Chiron the whole story when I ran to the Big House to get more gauze wrap for the infirmary.”

She was still frowning, this time concerned, but didn’t comment any further. Will stared at him with wide eyes - both in the memory and in the moment - and tried to memorize how young Lee’s face was, and how the war hadn’t yet started to darken and sharpen his features.

“His name’s Nico, I think. I looked him over when they all arrived via dad and the magic school bus.” And there was Michael, his wild hair sprawled out and his voice sarcastic in a way Will hadn’t remembered. He shot a look towards Will, his lips stretched out into a grin. “He’s about Will’s age, I think.”

Will, in the memory, puffed up a bit at the attention. “I’ll be eleven next week.” He informed them.

They both laughed, and Will’s chest ached for the sound.

The memory began to spill away, like painting colors washing together in the mixing water, and everything went muddy and brown before another memory was forming.

The air was stiff and stuffy, and in the memory Will wiped at his forehead, flicking the sweat off his hand before continuing. The kid - young, too young to be fighting in wars - twitched and yelled, not in pain or panic, but in loud frustration as she tried to push Will off of her.

“Look!” Kayla screamed, pointing out the window. Will could hardly look away from his patient - the Ares kid bleeding harshly from her side, loudly insisting that nothing was _really_ wrong - but he glanced up, just for a moment, mostly out of instinct.

Out in the middle of the streets - where the _real_ horror was happening, nothing like the barely controlled chaos happening in the infirmary, something was happening - something big, something _important_ from the way even the most active of monsters were frozen in the second - and there was a barely visible figure standing apart from them, obviously in the middle of something.

“Who’s that.” Will breathed out, extremely aware of the struggling patient beneath his hands.

“It’s Nico di Angelo. Hades kid.” Someone answered, and Will had no idea who. “He came back to save us.”

The Ares kid went limp, and Will was quickly pulled away from the scene on the street and, just as quickly, from the memory all together.

This memory, obviously taken from a time not too far in the past, was painted just as Will - past Will - was finishing an argument.

“- as much damage as we can to those onagers. But _no_ shadow-travel.”

Nico - looking so much more different then the boy Will had been seeing in his dreams, scowled deeply, glaring at Will. This boy was thinner, and so extremely pale, not anything close to the flushed cheeks Will could recall, and he was so angry, from even this memory Will could feel how deeply his anger was trained into him, straight to the marrow in his bones, and all the hurt that followed it.

Nico sighed, and Will could feel the spike of approval that his past self had at the gesture.

“Whatever.” Nico snapped, “But we have to hurry. And you’ll follow _my_ lead.”

**_I’d follow you anywhere, Nico di Angelo._ **

That memory - that thought - was so overpowering to the the rest of his senses, that for a single second, it was almost like Will was standing in the moment, with the too-long grass brushing at his ankles, and his face feeling odd and greasy, with Nico frowning at him a few steps away.

“Fine.” Will’s words, not controlled by him in any way, spilled out. “Just don’t ask me to deliver any more satyr babies and we’ll get on _great_.”

The memory - what Will thought was a memory - began to shift away, pieces already sliding apart and away and was replaced with only darkness.

Will shifted away, wondering if this was the end of it all, wondering if he knew how this all actually came to be, before a hand wrapped around his wrist, and a pair of lips were at his ear.

“Hey, stranger.” The voice, so happy and fond and achingly familiar laughed into Will’s neck, “C’mon.” The voice told him, “Let’s go somewhere... _private_.”  

And the most surreal feeling passed over Will - and memory Will shared in the fascinating experience as if it was his first time as well. Darkness, true blackness, pulled them into the shadows, as if covering them both in a thick, warm blanket, and slipped off only a second later, exposing them both to cool air and splashing waves.

“Where are we?” Will breathed out, gripping onto Nico’s familiar hand.

Nico shrugged, grinning a bit, and squeezing his hand right back. “Somewhere in the Bahamas. I wasn’t picky.”

A slow grin overtook Will’s face, his eyes starting to sparkle and his cheeks starting to stretch. “I completely unapprove of this misuse of your powers.” He told Nico, already starting to toe off his sandals. He dug his toes into the soft, white sand with relish, throwing his head back to groan.

Nico huffed out a laugh, pulling off his thin jacket in favor of the light, warm breeze. Will joined him, stripping his shirt and jeans and enjoying every second of Nico’s eyes on him.

The water was warm and clear, and perfect on his skin. Nico was around him in a second, and Will was unsure if that was a dream or part of the memory.

Past Will turned to place his chin atop Nico’s head, and both past and dream Will enjoyed the fact he was able to do that. Nico, however, only rolled his eyes and lightly pushed the other boy away.

Will’s past self picked up a seashell and balanced it on Nico’s shoulder, grinning and tracing a bead of water around it. Nico looked over his shoulder, wrinkling his nose, and his past self felt a jolt of happiness at the gesture. Nico’s ring glittered in the moonlight as he splashed past Will and with that blanket of water that passed over him, the memory began to blur together.

There was a long moment of blanket, so long that Will was unsure whether the darkness was a memory in itself, and he was beginning to get so cold, despite the piles of blankets he vaguely remembered -

and he was back in the cabin.

_Will_

He whipped around, the air seeming to sing out to him as his gaze settled on the shadowed corner of the cabin. Where even the green lantern did not light, and the air seemed to be pulling him towards.

He took a step forward, his chest seizing.

“N-Nico.” He choked out, his voice a whisper despite the scream that he was attempting to force out. His throat was aching with the effort, and the air pressed down on him even harder.

“Will.”

And _fuck,_ wasn’t that voice like the literal first notes of music to his ears, the first gasp of air after a nightmare, the first rays of sunshine after a storm -

Nico.

That’s exactly what it is.

It was Nico.

“I’m here.” He managed to breath back, frozen in place. Frozen, but with just enough space to gasp and heave in the stale air of the dusty cabin.

“Where...where are you.” The darkened corner breathed back, breathless and hidden.

“I’m here.” He repeated, wishing he could do nothing more than to rush forward into the darkness. “I’m coming for you.”

“You promised.” He choked back.

The darkness was beginning to stick to him down, covering his skin and insides and voice. He thinks...he remembers this happening before, maybe, and that means this is almost over, that Will’s time is almost up.

“I’m coming, I am, I promise, I -” Will began choking on the darkness in the air, the darkness climbing down his throat. He only had seconds, the doctor in him knew, as the air in his lungs began to run out, and his throat began to seize and choke with the physically heavy blackness that was beginning to fill and float his body. He had so many things he wanted to say, things he wasn’t sure if he’d remember when he woke, which was one of the scariest things. He wished he could do something, say something, but as his hands came up around his throat in instinct, there was nothing.

Except in the few moments before everything went completely black, before his eyes filled with darkness and he woke, he felt his camp necklace at the base of his throat, comforting and real and worn.

He barely had seconds to rip the leather strip off and throw it to the ground before he was waking up.

* * *

When Will woke, he was clenching at the ring strung around his neck.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Clovis mumbled out, already reaching out to tuck himself back into his bed.

“Yeah.” Will breathed out, almost shaking with the numerous memories all calling and screwing for his attention. “Almost...almost everything.” He was frantic at patting around his throat, desperate for what was not there.

“That’s good.” Clovis answered, and no one was really surprised when his snores started up only moments after the words left his mouth.

Will stared at him for a moment, unsurprised when he found each of the others doing the same.

They were all unprepared for the fact that their savor to their desperate, ongoing memory plight came in the form of a short and stocky permanently sleepy, young boy.

Unspeaking, Hazel lead them back to the Hades cabin - unoccupied and empty - and they all entered the building slowly, as if they were trespassing. Even Hazel, with her birthright to the cabin, stepped carefully, her hands nervously folded together.

They settled on the floor, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as Will pictured. His eyes lingered on the first bed - the one in so many of his memories - and tried to ignore the way his body felt like he just _belonged._

They sat in silence for what felt like hours. Maybe it was.

They all needed to think about what they saw, about what had happened and what they had forgotten.

“I need to go back under.” Will told them, his words a quiet mutter. “I _need_ to remember more.”

“No.” Reyna’s voice was steel, and Will looked up at her in surprise. “You cannot risk falling into dreams forever.” She told him, her tone edging on a warning.

He wanted to argue - she had no idea what he had seen - but he bit his tongue.

It made sense, obviously, but Will couldn’t help but looking off into the distance, his mind already sinking back into the precious memories.

Jason stared at him, but Will was unnoticing, his eyes locked on the wooden floor boards.

“Were you and Nico...together?” Jason finally asked, pulling him out of his trance, and his voice was soft and tentative

“I think so. Yeah.” Will answered after a long moment, feeling all their eyes on him. He buried himself deeper into his hoodie, not cold at all. “I think...I think I loved him.”

“I loved him.” Hazel spoke in the silence that followed, and her voice was like if tears were pressed into a sound. “He was my brother. But...I remembered something.” She swallowed, and the next words were hard for everyone to hear, but mostly for her to say. “I don’t have a sister. I never did. Her name was Bianca, and she died before I even came back.”

She cried, mourning for the sister she never had and the brother that was taken from her, and Jason held out his arms for her to lean into.

“He loved you.” Jason told her, sure of that fact when he pulled away after a few minutes. “He wanted you to be happy.”

“Stop using past tense.” Reyna snapped at him, and Will leaned back, surprised, at the hard emotion in her voice. “He’s my best friend. He’s fine. We’re going to find him, and when he get’s back he’s going to be _so fucking mad_ if he found out we cried over him with past tense.”  

There was a moment of quiet, of swallowing down tears and scratchy throats, when Jason barked out a laugh that startled them all.

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Jason grinned, but there was sadness in the gesture. “He’d be _pissed._ ”

Hazel giggled softly, and Will ignored the tears trailing down her cheeks. “He’d make a big deal out of it.” She told them, her voice soft but giggling. “But he’d be so embarrassed about it.”

Hazel and Jason separated, laughing softly,

“He was wearing this... _horrible_ Hawaiian shirt when he came back to camp.” Will told them, and was surprised when Reyna, sitting beside him, clasped a hand over her mouth, laughter spilling out of her.

“I _remember_ that shirt!” She laughed, and the sound was loose and rare and a bit unsteady, but joyful in the moment. “I think...I think I was there. When he found it.”

“He hated it so much.” Hazel’s giggle was watery, but real. “He...he only wears black, I think. I tease him, sometimes.” She bit her lip, and no one judged her for trying to bite back her tears. “He’s a, he’s a really good brother. He’s a really good person. I...I love him so much.”

There was a moment of silence as they thought over this statement, each knowing how true it was, each applying to their own memory of the boy.

“Before I woke up…” Will swallowed through the thickness in his throat, and the burning in his nose. “I had another dream with him. It wasn’t a memory, it was new, I know it. I, uh, I threw my camp necklace on the ground and when I woke up…” His hand was at his throat, now only the thin silver chain resting there. “It was gone. It was left there, with him.”

Will didn’t dare to look up at them, didn’t dare to breath. Finally, when he couldn’t bare it a moment longer, he glanced up.

Reyna was shaking her head, her long braid still curled into a bun. “This is...this is good news.” She was almost beaming when she looked up to them. “That means...that means we can do something. We can save him. I don’t know how, not yet, but we can, we can fix this.”

Will nodded, taking her hand. “We’re going to do this.” He told her seriously, told them each seriously. “We’re going to get him back.” He steadied his breath, “I promised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much angst. This is so much longer than I anticipated. It's looking to be five chapters right now, maybe six.  
> Thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the kind comments. They seriously motivate me. Thank you!  
> Happy Late Thanksgiving to my American readers!  
> title & excerpt at the top from 'wildest dreams' by taylor swift  
> Follow me on tumblr for weird 2am tumblr prompts and crying - rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> \- Rosy


	4. Chapter 4

_Say you'll see me again, even if it's just pretend_

* * *

 

“So.” Will badly forced nonchalance had Reyna rolling her eyes in the background, but, as they agreed, she let him continue. He leaned up against the doorway of the cabin, crossing his arms. “So, like, hypothetically, how would someone summon a minor god?”

The Athena cabin was strangely empty for this time of day. Late afternoons were usually reserved for quiet reading in the cabin, as most of the camp knew, because the cabin usually demanded the same quiet from the rest of the camp. Little did Will and them know, Malcolm had discovered what he thought to be a new mutation in the strawberry plants, calling away a majority of the Athena and Demeter cabins to investigate, leaving both cabins deserted.  

Correction - nearly deserted.

Wes paused, his previously scrawling pen hovering over his notebook for a second. He took a deep breath, capped his pen, and turned to them, his limbs still stiff. “You want to what?”

Will heard the few of them shifting behind him - the creaking of the floorboards being pretty tell-tale, and Will took another step forward, his arms up in surrender. “Completely hypothetical. Summoning a minor god, like, how would someone? Hypothetically.”

Wes gave him such a dry look, Will was feeling a bit parched. “There are no hypothetical situations for demigods. There is what is happening at this moment and what is being planned for said demigods in the future.” Wes stood, a bit defensive. “What are you planning?”

Will bit his lip, weighting everything he knew about the son of Athena. He was book-bound, as all Athena kids were, smart off the charts - but he was also known to be best friends with a few Hermes kids, and his pranks never seemed to break any actual rules. He was smart, yeah, but in a way that always kept him in trouble. He got absorbed in his projects, but always had good results, so no one really minded when he fell down the rabbit-hole of research.

Will took a breath. “We need to get into contact with a minor god.” He gestured to the small group congregating behind him. Again, because of his ties to nearly every cabin, he was elected to do the outreach.

That, and Reyna was a bit scary if you didn’t know her.

And, Will glanced towards the glaring girl, even if you did know her, she was a bit terrifying.

Wes stood, pulling Will’s attention back to him, and turned to the side to examine the papers thrown across his desk.

“Which minor god?” Wes began leafing through some textbook, his eyebrows coming together.

“We...don’t know.” Will hesitated, “We...don’t know a lot about this.”

Wes gave them a look. “Do you know anything?”

“The spell is rooted in magic.” Jason added on helpfully, coming up behind Will. “Lou Ellen has been kind off because of it.”

“Most of the Hecate cabin, actually.” Wes muttered, and Will was surprised to remember that Wes was dating one of the older Hecate sons.

“You’ve noticed it too?” Hazel asked, probably remembering the same fact.

Wes was already nodding. “Yeah. Jasper’s been adding weird for the past few weeks. Very...spacey.”

Will was nodding quickly. “Yes! Yes, that’s it!” Will bit his lip. This was the hard part, and he clenched at the ring hanging around his throat to anchor him. “We think it has to do with a boy we’ve been seeing. In our dreams, I mean.” Will glanced to his companions, “We’ve all been having dreams about him, and we think a god has to do with this. They’re the only ones really powerful enough to pull something off like this.”

Wes was nodding along. “This boy, what do you know about him?”

Will bit his lip, nearly drawing blood, and struggled with the too-full air around him. Just as he opened his mouth, working himself up to saying the name that would inevitably seize his chest, Reyna interrupted him.

“His name is Nico.” Her voice was strong, clear, but her hands shook in clenched fists at her side. “He is a son of Hades. He is young, maybe 15 years old. He has black hair and olive skin and -” She cut herself off, a bright sweat now glossing her skin. She moved on, “He is loyal and smart and tells horrible jokes and -” She was swaying on her feet now, and Will edged closer to provide comfort if needed. She saw this and straightened the best she could, her eyes still a bit fuzzy. “And he is my best friend.”

Wes ducked his head, giving her a moment to compose herself as he thought over her words. “Nico...Nico.” He nodded, turning back to his notebook to scrawl something down. “That...sounds familiar.” Wes finally looked up at them, all a bit worn from Reyna’s words. “He was one of you guys. One of the heroes, right?”

“I’m not a hero.” Will shook his head, “But I think so. I think...He helped end the war.”

Wes nodded like it was all staring to make sense. “Annabeth, in her sleep, was saying something about Hades.” He glanced away, “It’s not uncommon for her to have nightmares about Tartarus, usually one of us just goes and drags Percy back in here for the night but…she was talking about the son of Hades once. Saying he was gone.” Wes just shook his head, “We all just thought it was something she’d seen down there.”

This spell. It’s bothering the Hecate cabin?” He continued, cocking his head to the side, not really paying them an attention at this point. He began making notes on a wrinkled sheet of paper, his handwriting messy and quick. “Have you noticed the nymphs acting weird?”

They all shared a look, “No we haven’t.” Will answered, unsure. Wes only continued to write, looking completely drawn in with information.

“Okay so that means,” He bit down on the end of his pencil, chewing the wood absentmindedly. He felt Reyna shift behind him, probably staring on in disgust, and this was when Wes finally looked up to meet their stares. “That means it’s not rooted in nature magic. If we can pin the type of magic, we can start figuring out who actually cast this spell.”

Wes looked back to his work in a way like most Athena kids did their research – completely and wholly. They lingered in the doorway, each of them feeling a varying amount of awkwardness – Will the most, Reyna the least – and looked to each other.

“We’d appreciate if you kept this on the down low.” Will told him, remembering what they had agreed upon before they entered the cabin. “We don’t want to involve Annabeth, and Chiron isn’t completely….on board with this.”

Wes didn’t hesitate. “It’ll stay between us.” He glanced around, eyeing the bookcase that wrapped almost completely around the cabin’s walls. “It’ll take me like a day or two to get through all these books.”

Will almost wanted to ask, only a day or two? From the look of the already tall growing pile on his personal desk, Will would have sworn at least a week. But they nodded, secret relief hidden in each of them, and quietly filed out. They went their separate ways with quiet nods, and each prayed for silent dreams.

Prayers, though, were never guaranteed.

As Will closed his eyes for the night, always so desperately tired these days, he gripped onto the heavy silver hanging around his neck, and hoped, oh gods he hoped, that he would remember when he woke.

Seconds later, barely seconds after closing his eyes, he was opening them in now familiar darkness, only glowing emerald flames to dance in his reflecting eyes.

He was standing, he was surprised to notice, and his hand was still clenching around the ring. His free hand, the one that wasn’t so incredibly desperately squeezing around warm metal, was feeling the hard stone wall, guiding him forward.

He’d read once that in a maze, you should always keep your hand on the right wall and you’d eventually escape. He didn’t know why he was remembering that right now, but as the floor in front of him escaped and shifted, he found it fitting. He struggled to walk forward, the rough stone comforting on his fingertips. It kept him from drifting off into the thick haze that only got thicker as he walked forward. It seemed like miles he was walking, a much larger distance then the camp even felt.

The ring was almost pulsing in his hand now, the warm metal almost burning, but Will only held on tighter. As he walked, the glowing torches around him got dimmer, and fewer, until Will was gripping onto the stone as he stumbled in the darkness. The haze was pushing down on him, and he remembered what Annabeth had told him once, how she held up the weight of the world and he wondered if that’s what this felt like, stumbling under an invisible weight. He thought of the burning pain in his hand, and how it felt when he finally remembered Nico and his memories. He remembered how it felt to fall in the memory of meeting Nico, of their playful banter that never really stopped, how it felt when they bickered and fought and kissed and defended each other. The glow in his chest that was ignited at the sound of his name or laugh or even just the sight of his small grin.

Will gasped, the weight of the haze almost pushing him over. It was weighting down on every movement of his now, the lifting of his legs as he trudged on, the uneven rise and fall of his chest, the slow swing of his arms and he felt like he could never take another step, like he could never take another breath and he tried to think of Nico, of his steady hands and blushing cheeks and his dark hair on pale skin and –

And suddenly the weight was gone, and Will was falling to the ground in relief and exhaustion. The air in his chest hitched and fought its way in and out until Will was able to breathe steady, and he was able to stand on unsteady feet, his body shaking in protest because – because – _because_ -

\- because Nico was there, looking away, focusing on something in the distance. He was draped over a large plush chair, something Will was certain he’d never seen in the Hades cabin. His hands looked to be folded in his lap, the rest of him unfocused. When he spoke, his voice was soft, his lips barely moving.

“I loved you.” Nico told him, his gaze still vacant and fixed on a portion of the wall. “You...gave me hope.” His hands were clenched around something, and his fingers were nearly white with the effort. His head was a lull on the couch and, even without setting his eyes on Will’s shaking figure, he seemed to know he was there.

“I love you.” These words spilled so easily out of Will, and they were so incredibly true, they had never _stopped_ being true, even when he didn’t remember. In that absence, Will had always had a portion of his chest dedicated to the other boy, a hole in his soul that he knew only Nico could fill with a sly grin or a soft laugh. “Nico, I love you. Present tense. I love you.”

Nico’s hands spasmed at that, the only part of him that wasn’t lax and loose. His hands shook violently, and through the soft green light Will could barely, just barely, see something cradled there in Nico’s pale hands, it was a flash of color, a flash of leather, a flash of - was that? _Was that?_

“Goodnight Will.” Nico whispered, and with that -

\- Will was awake, sitting up in his bunk, gasping and choking, and the light was flipped on and suddenly arms were around him, around his shoulders and chest and neck and - and - and –

_“My necklace!”_ He choked out, the images still stamped in his mind, the image of Nico’s desperate, white hands squeezing the soft, thin leather and beads, as desperate as Will felt. He heaved, nothing in his stomach to throw up and whoa, when was the last time Will had eaten? He…he couldn’t remember. His chest started seizing at this simple thought, because how could Will _not_ remember when he’d last eaten? What else was he forgetting, among all this?

“Calm down Will.” He could hear, he could hear this and yet he couldn’t process this simple order, could listen and nod and take a deep breath. The arms around him, the arms holding him down from his thrashing body, lessened until there was only one touch, holding his shoulders in place as he swallowed in dusty air, and his sister was across from him, Kayla, who was always the best with their panicking patients, and her voice was soft but sure as she gave him simple instructions.

“Breath.” She instructed, her own breathing slowed and loud so Will could match his to hers. He tried to follow her simple instruction, tried to force the air in and out of his lungs, and with this, he closed his eyes and fell against her shoulder.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he was finally able to pull away, blinking himself back to reality. Long enough that the bright sweat on his skin dried into an itch, he noticed, running his hand over the back of his neck. Their cabin was nearly empty now, only Hina leaning against the open doorway, letting the cool breeze drift in. Lukas probably lead their siblings to the Hermes cabin for the night, or let them crash on the extra cots in the infirmary. That was something…something Will thinks he used to do, when one of them was having a bad nightmare.

Kayla was still crouched across from him, probably inducing killer pain on her knees, and only patiently stared back at him. “Better now?” She asked in her doctor-soft voice, nothing like her usual high note.

Will nodded, still a bit wobbly. “What - what time is it?”

Kayla glanced back to Hina, who shrugged. “Around four, probably.” Hina answered, eyeing the skyline. “Dad’s not up yet but Artemis is getting ready to leave.”

Will nodded at that – he’d gone to bed around midnight but his dream had felt like days of fighting that horrible pressure and shaking in front of Nico instead of a mere four hours of sleeping. He rubbed at his sore eyes, a familiar exhaustion already aching down to his bones.

Both of his sisters were watching him, varying amounts of concern evident in their eyes.

“Have you been taking your meds, Will?” Kayla asked, biting her lip.

He hadn’t, he just noticed. Ever since he remembered Nico, he hadn’t bothered. He wondered if lying would help him, but, as he noticed, the almost completely full pill bottle was still at his bedside where he had thrown it.

“I’m fine.” He declared, picking himself off the floor. “I just- I just need to go on a walk.”

They watched him go, their concern eyes having an almost physical touch on his skin. He shifted his tense shoulders, his skin suddenly aching with an unbearable itch.

He was half-way across the field separating the cabins when he realized he wasn’t wearing any shoes on the dew-ridden grass. Already, his bare feet felt like ice. It had been strangely cold the last few days, he was just now realizing, and all he was wearing was an old tank top and a thin pair of pajama pants. The pants had little skulls on them, he was also just noticing, and he vaguely wondered when he would have bought them.

He glanced around to where his feet had brought him and sighed, reaching up to rub some friction caused warmth into his arms. Of course this is where his body brought him on auto-pilot.

He shivered once more, staring up at the glowing green lanterns flickering above him. He took one more glance to his glowing cabin where his sisters were undoubtedly talking about him, and how easy it would be to simply return back there and fall asleep once more. He could take a few pills and be out within minutes.

He turned back to the cabin that seemed to be leaching darkness from the night air and ducked inside.

He was still wide awake hours later when Jason was cracking open the cabin door. He didn’t seem surprised to see Will there, only nodding at him as he claimed a random bunk as his own. Will was curled up in the cot from his dreams, the only one that felt like anything close to familiar. He traced the wood stain on the bed frame and wondered if Jason felt the same.

Hazel and Reyna each followed soon after, and Will wondered if they knew he was in here or if this was a ritual of their own. They met in here often, yes, but usually when the sky was darkened and the night was forgiving of sneaking away demi-gods.

Will closed his eyes as Hazel’s soft snores began to echo through the cabin, and was unsure if he was hopeful for a dream filled with nothing or a dream filled with _everything._

Sleep came easy to him these days, mostly exhaustion, a little the desperate need to fall back into the darkness with Nico.

Will wasn’t sure if it was the fact he fell asleep in Nico’s cabin, or perhaps it was being curled up in Nico’s bed, holding his ring, but when he woke up in the dream, he was already in Nico’s presence. The chair from what felt like hours ago was gone, and Nico stood draped in shadows.

“Nico.” He choked out, attempting to rush forward. And, for once, it worked, and Will was across the room in seconds, his hands shaking as he reached forward.  

His hands hesitated, hovering, for a moment over the other boy’s too-pale skin. He…he didn’t know what to do. Hug him? Sit with him? He swallowed in uncertainty and attempted the only thing that felt okay.

Will rested his forehead against Nico’s, trying and failing to ignore the coldness of the other boy’s skin. “I’m coming for you, Nico.”

Nico’s grip was causing his hands to shake violently. Will pulled away, not enough so they were out of each other space but enough to stare down between them. Will carefully, gently, turned Nico’s shaking hands over. He peeled back Nico’s squeezing fingers to expose the colorful beads and worn leather Will had worn for the past five years.

“Keep it safe for me, Neeks.” Will finally told him as they both stared, wide-eyed, at the simple piece. Will had no idea where that nickname came from. It felt right.

Will, his hand under Nico’s, guided Nico’s hand into a fist around the leather. With the movement, Nico suddenly froze, his eyes glued to Will’s torso.

“That…that’s mine.” Nico’s voice was full of air as he spoke so, so softly. Nothing like the screams that haunted Will’s forgettable nightmares. Nothing like the strong, sarcastic voice that echoed in Will’s thoughts. “That’s…mine. Right?”

Will looked down, slightly surprised to see the ring hanging around his neck. He…didn’t remember that part of the dream.

Nico’s lips barely wrapped around his words as he spoke, one of his hands breaking away from its tight grip on the necklace to slowly reach for the silver chain on Will’s neck.

“It helps me remember you.” Will told him, holding it up so Nico could examine it in the dim, green light. He was surprised it showed up at all. After all, he went to the bed in pajamas and always woke up in his dreams in an entirely different outfit. It was strange that the ring made an appearance in all this. “It’s helping us find you.”

That last part had Nico tensing up, pulling away, and Will wanted to follow the movement immediately.

“Will.” Nico didn’t look to him as he spoke, “Be safe. That’s…” He took a deep breath, and the words seem to physically pain him. “That’s all I want. If you can’t…if you can’t do this, I need you to be safe. I, I,’ll be fine.” Nico’s weak voice shook as he said this, his gaze unfocused on a section of darkness.

Will wanted to argue, the words - _We’re coming for you Nico, I’ll never stop looking, I can’t be safe without you, I’ll never be fine without you, Gods, Nico, please ohgodsplease Nico_ please _don’t give up hope we’re coming Nico I promise, I promised -_ all wanting to burst out in that moment, but then the darkness was fading, and Nico was turning away, his fists still clenched together, and –

\- and Will was waking up.

* * *

He didn’t try and fall back asleep after that.

* * *

The next day, Will found himself in a position familiar to these days: cross-legged in a half-circle on the Hades cabin floor with the others.

They were trading their favorite stories, usually wrapped with an odd reference of appearance from the son of Hades himself. Will was forcing down a bowl of fruit salad that Hazel had brought, praying to the gods he’d keep it down. He tried to focus on the stories as they shared them, his thoughts wanting to be carried away as soon as Nico was mentioned. He held a hand against his chest, pressing the metal to his skin, and concentrated on Hazel’s words.

She was just finishing the vague story of how Nico brought her back to life, unsure if she simply didn’t remember all the details or if she never understood it at all. They were deciding probably a mixture of both, they agreed on, when Jason, leaning back with his head in his crossed arms, suddenly sat up, spilling an open bag of chips onto lap and the floor. He blinked a few times, either confused about the happenings of said chip bag or collecting his thoughts. From the way he was eyeing the sour cream and onion in his lap, it was probably the former. Finally, after a few seconds of having their full, quiet attention on him, he spoke.

“Can’t we just contact Hades and ask him about Nico?” Jason asked, only stumbling over the boy’s name a bit. He said this like it was a brilliant idea, like it was a game-changer.

Reyna was already shaking her head. Knowing her, she had probably explored that option long before any of them considered it. “You can’t just contact the god of the Underworld. It is much more difficult, more difficult than tracing the line of magic.”

Will glanced at the other girl in their small group. “But...could Hazel do it?”

Reyna looked to Hazel. She seemed unsure – either about the question or asking, Will didn’t know. “Hazel? What do you think?”

Said girl was biting down on her lip, hesitant. “I’ll try.” She told them, “But I’ve been praying to him for a few days now and I haven’t gotten any response.”

“That seems to be the verdict for most of the major gods.” Will muttered, a bit bitter about the fact. He shook his head, clearing his head of at least most of his negative thoughts. “Has anyone talked to Wes?”

“I stopped by yesterday.” Jason told them all, still picking fragments of chips off his lap, his nose wrinkled. “He said we should probably come by after capture the flag tomorrow, he thinks he’s close to something.”

Will let out a long groan at the end of Jason’s sentence. “I forgot tomorrow was Friday.” He informed them mournfully at their confused glances.

Jason flashed him a weak grin, and Will was just beginning to notice how tired the other boy looked. How tired they _all_ looked. “Romans verse Greeks. Should be fun, right?”

* * *

Will literally couldn’t put into words how much he did not have energy for this today.

Although honestly, these days he hardly had energy for _anything_. But still. Running around in full armor to steal a piece of cloth from a couple dozen war hardened Romans?

No. Absolutely not.

Capture the flag used to be his favorite. When he was younger, before play-war turned into real-war and a bit of ambrosia could heal anything and everything, he loved the game. He loved being on the front line, a white medic band around his arm, and fighting and sweating and laughing with his siblings.

Now, his eyes drooping further with every second, he was put on self-inflicted emergency services.

This was usually the position they gave out as punishment – after all, you were forced to stay in a stuffy infirmary while the rest of the camp ran around and shrieked with excitement and adrenaline.

He pulled on a set of the infirmary-blue scrubs, not bothering to yet pull on a pair of latex gloves, and explained the temporary change of command to his siblings. Kayla, who he’d named in charge for the course of the game, puffed out her chest a bit in pride. She had real command potential, she did, and Will was sorry it had only become evident to him in such late times.

Hina – who had been given the shift after she was caught making out with her girlfriend after lights out – brightened at Will’s volunteering statement.

“Don’t worry Hina.” Will smirked, and was a bit annoyed when his voice wasn’t as strong as he’d like. He cleared his throat, continuing. “You can organize the supplies closet later to make up for this.”

She frowned at that, but didn’t seem nearly as down as she did moments before. She shrugged, a matching smirk coming to her face, “Sage is all about that organized life crap. She’ll help me.”

Will shrugged, mostly because Hina’s Demeter girlfriend _was_ like that, and Will didn’t have a good comeback in response. In retaliation, he simply vowed to just not be as careful when putting away supplies today during their inevitable rush periods.

His siblings took a few more minutes loading up their supply backpacks, their arm bands snow white and obvious on their dark and metal suits. Hina was excitedly pulling on her own set of armor, her sword swinging already at her side.

At least someone was excited for the game.

Will couldn’t remember the last time he _truly_ enjoyed a good game of capture the flag. Not anytime recently, that was obvious.

He let himself wonder, very briefly, if Nico enjoyed capture the flag. He thinks so.

His siblings filed out, Kayla already muttering about a potential team up with the Athena cabin, and Will reveled in the rare silence that joined the dust in the air as they left.

He wasn’t stupid enough to attempt a nap, not with his nerves already on edge with Wes’s soon announcement. He filled out a few stacks of paperwork, only interrupted twice by the same rag-tag group of Hermes-Ares kids, each demanding small blocks of ambrosia so they walk off their injuries and get back to the game. Both times, Will eyed them, the doctor in him wanting to bind them each to a bed until they were properly healed, the Greek half-blood in him completely agreeing with their crazed, slightly desperate, need to win against the Romans. Both times, he handed off the small amounts of godly food, on the only condition they return afterwards for a proper check-up – a safe compromise for those sides of him.

He paused after that. Negotiating infirmary stays…that felt familiar, for some odd reason. Who had he done that with before? Cecil, maybe?

Will shook the thought out of his head. He had too much work to be daydreaming all day.  

There was another long period of quiet, the calm before the storm that happened right before a win when no camper could be dragged from the forest no matter the injury. This was welcomed, and Will managed to clear the heavy pile of paperwork on the desk _and_ organize the supplies closet.

What? He can always find a different punishment for Hina, and he _hates_ a messy workplace.

He finally settled in the desk, all his work taken care of, no patients to take care of, and began his scheduled freak-out about what Wes had to say.

The door crashed open and Will, despite nodding off into a good freak-out only seconds before, was at the doorway in seconds. It was one of the minor god’s kids – Janus, he thinks – unconscious in the arms of a muddy Aphrodite girl. Will had one of the gurney under the kid in seconds, already examining the steadily bleeding head wound on the young girl. The Aphrodite girl – Scarlett, he registers under the layer of mud, is injured as well, a shoulder puncture wound that didn’t look too bad, but the mud covering her head to toe clearly wasn’t helping it. Selena, hot on Scarlett’s heals apparently, hip checked him out of the way of the Janus kid, nodding towards the doorway.

The rest of his siblings charged the infirmary, the after-battle injuries pouring in. Usually, there was nothing really bad – a few stab wounds at most from overzealous campers who didn’t care about the status of their dessert privileges. This time around, the battle seemed to be definitely more brutal. The Romans didn’t pull punches, this was known, but Will vaguely wondered if they’d had the Mess Hall brownies yet. Not even the most deserved stab wound was worth losing those little pieces of Olympus.

He quickly dealt with Scarlett’s minor wound – a bit of antiseptic, a bandage to keep anymore dirt from falling in, as well as a small vial of nectar to quick start the healing – and threw himself into a few more urgent cases.

Will was just finishing up one of the Nike girls, sewing back a particularly bad cut she swore was accidental, when the door slammed open again, bringing all their attention back to the front.

Jason hung off the doorway, breathing hard like he’d run a mile. From the looks of his sweat stained t-shirt and the glossy shine to his skin, maybe he had.

“Will.” He gasped, ignoring the rest of the campers in the infirmary. Almost immediately, Will’s siblings were on the son of Zeus, their hands guiding him to a cot, searching him for some kind of injury. Not many people burst into the infirmary for the Hades of it, after all.

Jason waved off the concerned hands as nicely as he could, “I’m not injured! Will!” He stood up, lightly pushing his way through the gathered campers, “Will, Wes found something. He said – he said he needs us right now.”

Will froze, the heavy exhaustion that was just starting to settle over his skin a moment ago disappearing in an instant. He passed the needle and thread over to one of his siblings, not really checking who, and stripped his latex gloves in a quick moment.

“Let’s go.” He said, already half way out the door following him.

He trusted one of his siblings to take over – they’d probably be relieved about this time off anyways. The few serious cases they had – the Hermes son who took a sword to the chest, the Vulcan kid who took an accidental flamethrower to the torso - were already being treated. It was mostly just stitches and ankle binding at that point.

He heard one of them call after him, out of surprise he’d imagine, but Will ignored them, instead bolting after Jason towards the Athena cabin.

“What is it?” He panted out, itching desperation slicking up his chest as they got closer to the cabin.

Jason didn’t answer, either too out of breath or having no idea. Probably the latter.

They slowed to a jog as they got closer to the cabin, looking thankfully empty except for the single figure inside and the two girls lingering on the porch, clearing waiting for them before going in. The rest of the Athena kids were probably going over their game strategy, pulling it apart and making it better for next time like they always did.

On the porch waiting, Hazel and Reyna, both still dressed in their Roman battle gear, were just as sweaty as he and Jason. Hazel had a bit of dried blood on her forehead and cheek that she paid no attention to, and Reyna’s knuckles were bruised and purple. He was itching to examine them - at least make sure Hazel’s head wound wasn’t too deep and Reyna’s knuckles weren’t broken - but ignored the urge.

Reyna nodded at them as they climbed the few stairs, turning and leading them through the doorway, sparing no time. Still heaving for breath, Will followed.

It was probably a good thing the rest of the Athena kids were still out, because their cabin was an absolute _mess._ Will vaguely suspected Wes had sat out this game in order to lay out all his papers, because there was _no way_ that mess could be made up in less than an hour.

Wes didn’t glance up as they entered; lingering still by the doorway, each eyeing a different form of research the Athena kid had spread out. There were half-Greek notes pinned up on the large corkboard, and several ancient looking books opened and dog-earred on the floor. He had a large piece of canvas paper spread out on the floor as well, occasionally taking a second to examine or add to. They watched this process for a long moment before Reyna, always a bit impatient when it came to the Greeks, stepped forward and cleared her throat.

“Watch that!” Wes instantly snapped, holding his hands protectively over a opened book a few inches from where the girl had stepped.

Will saw Reyna’s shoulders tense up, just slightly. She didn’t seem like someone who was used to people snapping at her. Hazel, always the observant one, must have noticed this too because just a second later she was stepping forward, careful to leave a space between the work and her feet.

“Wes?” Hazel’s voice was soft with reminder, “You said you had something really important to tell us?”

Wes didn’t answer for a long moment, instead jumping up to examine the corkboard with such intensity, Will would have sworn there was a blood feud involved somehow.

“Look!” He finally exclaimed, pointing to one of the papers pinned at the bottom. Will, the nearest to the board, bent down to get a better look.

He blinked. Waited a few moments, wondering if his dyslexia was acting up, and stood.

“That’s…not Greek.” Will answered after a moment of staring at the paper. The buzz lighting up his skin was only getting more intense every second he wasn’t getting answers, but he wasn’t about to yell at their own chance for information.

“Swahili, actually. But I was referring to –“ Wes pointed to the picture directly under the text. _"That.”_

Will unpinned the paper, pulling it up to show the others. “It’s  a…diagram.”

Wes nodded excitedly, looking like he lived for this kind of action. Knowing Athena kids, he probably did. “It’s a diagram to trace _magic._ It explains the whole thing!”

Hazel, leaning over Reyna’s arm, only stared uncomprehending at the foreign language. “But…how are we going to figure out who cast it? How does this help us get Nico back?”

Wes blinked a few times, his eyes unfocused. “Okay so. We already figured out that this spell isn’t nature magic – the magic’s too dark for that and none of the nature spirits seem effected like the Hecate kids are – so it means that this must be a birthright kind of magic. This means it can be either a Hecate descendent, someone with magic in their _blood,_ although no one in this camp would be _nearly_ strong enough to control that amount of magic, or even weave this complex of a spell. So that means it was _probably_ a god. Minor, like you guys said, because a major god’s spell wouldn’t have nearly as many flaws. They should have learned from the last time around.” Wes shook his head in annoyance, as if missing the opportunity to learn was a personal offense to him. He ignored the rest of Hazel’s question, instead flipping through the book nearest to him.

Will felt a jolt of anger at that – at Wes for being so unconcerned about this whole fucked up situation, at the gods who kept messing with their _fucking_ lives, and the _fucking_ universe that kept letting it happen – but was interrupted in his red hot emotion by Reyna suddenly taking another step forward, her eyes flaming with her own brand of anger.

“Flaws?” Reyna demanded, her eyes sharp.

Wes clearly wasn’t paying attention to the dangerous note in Reyna’s voice, because he continued on like nothing. “Yeah, this spell was done kind of horribly. You guys shouldn’t be remembering this Nico by the barrowful, if at all. And the nightmares, definitely a fault. When Hera pulled her version of this, she was nearly flawless with wiping Grace and Jackson.” Wes shook his head, his eyes already glued to a different notebook. “This time, it was just sloppy.”

Will recognized the anger beginning to bubble underneath Reyna’s eyes – mostly because it was beginning to heat up his own emotions. Wes’s nonchalant tone of voice wasn’t exactly the enemy at the moment, but that didn’t stop Will from grinding his teeth together. Hazel, at his side, was surprising sharp in her anger, her hands in fists at her side.

“What can we do?” Jason spoke up before any of them could lash out. “To save Nico?”

Wes perked up at that, pulling up one of the books from the floor. “We’re going to trace the magic.” He told them, his eyes too excited for something they’d been crying, screaming, _forgetting_ about for what felt like forever. “We’re going to trace it back to whomever cast it, after that you’ll at least know who, and then you can find out _why._ But that’s not why I called you guys – the spell as to be done while the sun is still in the sky – don’t ask me why – but if we hurry we can do it _tonight.”_

Will’s bones felt like they’d been shocked with electricity at that. He nearly stumbled onto the carpet at that single word alone, his legs suddenly jelly, but managed to grab onto the desk for support.

“How.” Hazel choked out, probably just as affected as him. Next to her, Jason was leaning against the wall, his eyes shiny and unbelieving.

They – they could save Nico _tonight._ He could – he could be back by tomorrow and he’s be okay and alive and breathing and _here._

By _tomorrow._

Will had to take a large, calming breath, and repeated after Hazel. Reyna, he’d noticed, was as stiff as a board, her eyes steel and still on the wall. Like she was unwilling to hope. “How. What do you need us to do.”

Wes beamed suddenly, brightly and joyfully, and completely ignored their effected expressions. “I’m going to need some blood.”

There was a long moment of silence, filled with mostly each demi-god making sure they’d heard that right. The spell of relief that was settled over them was broken momentarily in exchange for a thick layer of confusion. Even Reyna, the most composed of them all, seemed thrown for a second. Hazel only scratched at the flaky blood on her forehead, probably only just now remembering it was there.

“…blood?” Will was the one who finally spoke up.

“From each of you, please.” Wes began cleaning up the floor space, exposing the wooden floor underneath. “And some candles. And a Hecate kid.”

“Um. Why?” Hazel asked, a very, very good question.

Wes pointed to the diagram still in Reyna’s hands, looking a bit annoyed. “That’s what it says. Candles. Descendent of magic itself. Something that the magic itself has touched.” He traced a line of the text, “It says we have to light the magic something on fire, or else I’d just use one of you.” Wes paused to give you all a dull look. “The magic is in all of you, influencing you constantly. You could always donate some skin, the paper adds on , if you want to keep your blood.”

Seeing no other option to fight the empty space in his chest, Will only dropped the fight in his shoulders. He would do much more then give a little blood to save Nico. “Someone go find a Hecate kid. I’ll….I’ll go and get some needles.”

Wes looked satisfied, and a bit crazed. That was a common expression amongst Athena kids who proved themselves right. “Good. Now go. Let’s find your friend!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo sorry for the late update. This chapter was edging on 10k words, with the bottom half hardly finished so I split it in half. Hopefully, that means I'll be able to update quicker!  
> Thanks for all our comments and kudos! They really, really help and really make my day. Thank you! <3  
> This was another chapter was exposition - all the action is up next! Hope everyone likes it!  
> title & excerpt at the top from 'wildest dreams' by taylor swift  
> Follow me on tumblr for weird 2am tumblr prompts and crying - rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> \- Rosy


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exits and their entrances as they please and laugh at the locksmiths.”- J. Sheridan Le Fanu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of blood and mild violence

Sneaking into the infirmary was much, much easier then Will would have predicted. 

But sneaking out - that seemed to be his problem. 

He kept his steps soft as he crept back out of the supplies closet, the kits tucked under his arm as he tried to keep his feet from edging themselves on the creaking floorboards. 

But luck - or the gods - didn’t seem to be on his side. Not at that moment, at least. 

He was just taking one of his last steps out of the infirmary, all the patients looking away, all his siblings working distracted, when one of the final floorboards creaked out in protest. 

Almost instantly, his sibling’s heads whipped towards him, frozen, and there was a moment of stillness. 

Kayla was standing from her desk of paperwork, an unsure look on her face. “Will....?” 

Will blinked a few times, unsure what to say. 

Running seemed safe. 

His other sister jumped forward as he turned away, grabbing onto his wrist before he could escape. 

Hina’s grip was tight, and her eyes were stone. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” 

Will only shook his head, twisting his wrist uselessly. “I have to go -” 

“You can’t keep pulling this. You  _ have _ to talk to us.” Hina insisted, attempting to pull him back into the room. 

Will let out a breath, roughly pulling his wrist free. He tried to ignore her slightly wounded expression at the action. Hina wasn’t one for wearing her emotions on her sleeve, and the look nearly wounded him. 

Will swallowed, pausing. “I will. I promise. Soon. But now -” He adjusted his grip on their blood work kits, ignoring their confused look at the action. “I’ve really, really got to go.” 

He ignored her calling after him, his heart twisting a bit, and ran back to the Athena cabin with all he had.

The  _ ‘descendent of magic itself’  _ was already there - Lou Ellen’s second in command, Meralda. 

She was looking slightly better than the last time Will had been her, the darks under her eyes still there but less prominent. She looked tired. They all did.  

Wes must have quickly explained the situation to her while Will ran off to the infirmary, because she didn’t question why Will began to unpack the blood taking kits before he was even fully situated. There was an urgency to his hands, to his eyes, that none of them commented on. 

“I asked for Lou.” Wes was frowning over at the daughter of Hecate. 

Meralda shook her head, an exhausted look on her face. She pulled her messy curls back into a ponytail as she spoke, looking like she was preparing for battle. “Lou can’t. She’s been -” She took a quick breath, inhale exhale. “She can’t right now.” 

Wes clicked his tongue. “With Lou being the head counselor, she must be getting it harder than the rest of you. She’d be the best for this, of course, with her magic being significantly stronger than yours -” 

“Well you’re stuck with me.” She scowled, crossing her arms. “Look, I know Jasper thinks your bluntness is charming or whatever, but you don’t need to be such an asshole.” 

Wes paused in his work at that, his hands hovering over the flipping pages, a conflicted look passing over his face.  “How...how is Jasper?” 

Meralda gave him a hard look. “He’d be doing better if his boyfriend wasn’t prone to holeing up in his cabin for days at a time.” 

Wes bit her lip, turning away after a moment and saying nothing, rare for the Athena ‘must have the last word’ camper. Will set out the final the supplies and began the process. 

The work was nearly effortless for him, having done the simple task for years as a training medic in the infirmary under his older siblings. It was something he should be teaching Marisol and Kiren to do, he vaguely thought as he capped the vial taken from Jason, taping over the small wound with tacky medical tape. Hazel didn’t even wince as he took hers, only her eyes fluttering shut at the inside pinch he knew she must be feeling. Wes continued to pace around them as he finished up the kits, Jason a still and quiet patient, and Meralda was hunched over the text Wes had shoved into her lap, the words curling into an unfamiliar language and dialect. 

Reyna did his kit, having her own limited medical knowledge, her face neutral as she slid the needle into his forearm. She was quick, effective, and Will couldn’t help but note how great of a doctor she could have been. A war medic in a different life, perhaps. 

Soon, Wes was taking all of the still-warm vials in hand, carefully instructing Meralda as she lit candles and gathered papers. They sat in a half-circle, leaning on each other, their eyes half drooping from exhaustion and mild blood loss as they waited. 

“We’re gonna start it.” Wes told them, his eyes tracing over a text, not looking at them. “It says by tracing the line of magic back to the source, those affected by the magic will be greeted by the caster in a vision. You guys might be tired, that’s fine.” His eyes flickered up to them, unsure for the first time since they started. “There’s also a warning. This is some pretty heavy magic, and it warns that casters usually don’t want to be found. Especially gods. You need to be careful.” 

There was no beat of pause, no hesitant moment of consideration. They all nodded, simply accepting the information, and Wes began the process. 

Meralda took a deep breath, her hands fluttering with nervous energy, and called a flame into her palms. She burned some dried, clumpy herbs in a bowl, her eyes flashing with magic, and began muttering words off the paper Wes placed before her. They all watched, holding their breath and each other’s hands with equal tension. 

As she muttered, as Wes read, as the bowl of herbs and blood and magic steamed and bubbled, Will’s eyes began to grow heavy, heavier than the deep exhaustion that he was so used to these days. This was more urgent, crashing into him and dragging down his eyelids with pressing speed. 

He was indistinctly aware of those around him - Jason, Hazel and Reyna - feeling the same, Hazel leaning against Jason, Reyna’s arms held out to the floor to keep herself straight. He slumped against the bunk behind him, his head falling to the wood with a solid sound, and his eyes very quickly fell afterwards. 

The smoke around them curled like shackles around their wrists. 

* * *

The first thing Will felt was panic.

He thrashed for a moment, darkness overcoming his everything but his sight, his mind, what felt like the air in his lungs - and the panic grew. He didn’t know where he was - where the others were, if they were here - and his breath grew ragged, grew fast -

And he felt just the barest whisper of calm in the back of his mind. 

This panic was not his own, he realized. 

He opened his eyes, despite the darkness, and forced them to stay open. His pulse was still racing, and his hands still shaking, but he forced himself still. 

He wasn’t panicked. He wasn’t anxious or freaking out or anything. He was slightly confused, he knew this, but he wasn’t panicked. His heart was still beating in his ears but, just over it, he could hear something - someone - else. The others, probably in the same state as him. 

And just as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, light broke out into the air like shattering china. 

Will winced from the light, covering his eyes, and kept himself from yelling out in pain. It was like bare liquid sunlight hitting the air, tainting the previously solid darkness. 

Will forced his eyes open again, spots playing across his vision, and was just barely able to catch Jason’s eye as he did the same. 

The light was a bit softer now, not as violent. He could see the others, and the darkness didn’t try and curl its way into his lungs anymore. Thank the gods. 

The light was coming from a hunched over figure, like light shining through a cracked window. It was uneven, shifting, and the being groaned out a sound that had Will feeling nauseous. 

It’s skin - Will noticed - was covered in the herbs and blood mixture Meralda had whispered into. It was binding him down, somehow. Wes had, so it seemed, managed the spell.

_ “Let me go. _ ” The being growled, and the hairs on the back of Will’s neck stood needle straight. There was threat in those words, and not a false one. 

This was the god - the being that had done this to them. Will had to stifle the horrible, terrifying anger that emerged with the thought. 

“We’ll cut off the spell if you’ll answer our questions.” Hazel’s voice was desperate and soft, her eyes wide and pleading as she was the first one to speak. Will was glad, he didn’t think he would have been able to. “Please. We beg you.” 

“You know who were are. You’re the god who has done this all to us.” Reyna spoke clearly, her words clear. “Why.” 

Her sentence was not phrased as a question, only as a flat and demanding answer. 

The god, half hidden in shadow that they were draping over themselves, did not look at any of them as they answered, their voice low and angry. Their words were pressed together, rushed, as if they  wanted anywhere to be but there. 

“I did what I did as punishment. Is that all? Demi-gods,” They muttered, “Think they deserve all the answers.” 

A god, Will was speculating from the lowness of their voice. Not Hera in disguise, or any other goddess. Will wasn’t sure if he was relieved. 

“Punishment?” Jason, always the one for justice, stepped forward, his brow coming together. “For who? And what?” 

The god seemed to get stronger with time, and they managed to struggle to their feet, swaying. Whatever spell Wes and Meralda had managed, it was stronger. The god scowled at the blood covering its forearms, cutting glare to all of them. 

“This spell. It’s holding me here, protecting you. How did you manage it?” 

Will was tired of this. “We’ll let you know if you tell us  _ what’s going on.  _ You did this to us. You - you erased someone from our memories, and tried to cover it up. Why? _ ”  _

The god seemed to grow as tired with the questions as they were.  _ “Fine.” _ He bit out, “I’ll answer your questions. This spell - it’s complicated. I respect that, at least.”

He turned away from them, a bit of the light dipping down in force. The mood of the atmosphere turned a bit cold, a bit dark, with his next words. 

“It is because of Hades, all of this mess had begun.” The god began, his voice low with anger. 

Will leaned forward, just slightly. 

After so many weeks - so much pain and sadness - they were finally getting some answers. The god continued, elaborating. 

“My daughter was a hero.” He growled, “But as she did not die in one of your _ little wars _ .” He spat out,  “She did not die one. She deserved Elysium. Even when I pleaded with Hades himself, he remained silent on the subject.” He looked off in the distance, his face echoing with a thousand emotions, the anger fading a bit at this words. Anger replaced with something raw, something angst fueled. “She wanders the Fields of Asphodel now, empty. Soon she will forget her past life. But I’ll never forget her. She was my  _ daughter. _ ”

The pure grief in his voice hit them like the god’s earlier panic did. Will didn’t bother to wipe away the tears trailing down his cheeks, only stifling the sob crawling up his chest.

“She deserved so much better. In her final moments, she  _ pleaded  _ with the gods to help her and I -  _ I couldn’t - _ “ The god cut himself off, looking so strangely human, and the scowl was back. “They watched her die. And after all that, after all my pleading and demanding of myself, Hades would still not budge on the one comfort I could have had.” 

“This is all for revenge.” Reyna stated, her voice nearly edging out the forced polite tone she trained herself in. 

He nodded, still looking off into the distance. “I wanted to hurt him. The monsters that killed my daughter - they’ll regenerate. Pain does not last for them. But the loss of a child hurts forever, even for gods. And I needed to hurt him - the small comfort of a wonderful afterlife would have satisfied me. But he refused.” 

“Why Nico?” Hazel asked, her voice thick. “I’m a child of Hades too, why him?” 

The god cast a quick look towards her. “Hades has already lost you once. I wanted this pain to be new, fresh. You don’t belong in this world, alive. But him...” His voice was a deep trail as it tipped off mid-sentence. “He has too much life in him. Losing him, I know, hurts Hades even at this moment.” 

“What…what exactly did you do? To us? And...him?” Jason spoke up, and Will’s hand came up to rest on the other boy’s shaking back. 

“I erased your memories. Demi-gods become too passionate and obsessed with those gone - it was much easier this way.” 

Will thought of the past few weeks - the cool sweat he would wake up in, the shakiness of his hands, the too familiar exhaustion that dug into every one of his movements, and wondered how that would be considered easy. 

“And the dreams?” 

He frowned, “That must have been a side effect of my magic leaking through. I called in a few favors for this process -  Mnemosyne, Hypnos, a few others - but that, that must have been mine. I got sloppy, I got -” He cut himself off just as he began to glow gold, caught up in his emotion, and they all turned away in instinct at the hot, bright light. He sighed, the light dimming, a continued. 

“I didn’t think a child of Hades would be noticed missing, especially this one. For a god, it’s not very hard to break down a mortal. But this one has proved…” He lip curled into a slight sneer of anger. “Difficult. He has too much life in him. Something Hades children usually lack.” 

“He’s been through a lot.” Will’s voice was soft, sure, despite Will having no idea or memory of what Nico’s life had been like. But he was sure of this, he knew it to his heart. “He doesn’t break easy.” 

The god turned to Will for the first time in the conversation, his eyes piercing Will’s skin to almost the point of physical pain. He refused to wince and glance away, only kept his gaze soft and low on the being in front of them. 

After a long moment, he met Will's eyes, and his pupils were as small as pins. "You saved her, once." He told Will. He  didn’t remember her – something he would later remorse upon - but he didn’t remember a lot of things these days. 

The god continued, "My daughter. She was gravely injured on her journey to the camp. You saved her. Years ago.” 

Will saw it in a moment, an operation that had almost gone the wrong way, and a girl too strong for any other outcome, and the memory was swept away in a second. The buried memory echoed in his mind, clearly forced into his mind by the being in front of him. He blinked in response. 

“Loretta.” Will spoke softly, “Your daughter. I – I remember her. Daughter of Morpheus. ”

The god let out a rare sob at the sound of her name, holding his hands to his chest. “She was so strong, my girl. So strong and beautiful.” 

“Morpheus.” Reyna after a moment, clearly having taken of thought. “The god of dreams.” 

_ That’s what he meant.  _ Will thought,  _ about his magic leaking through.  _

The god continued to sob, the rest of them standing close together in the dim darkness, and Will stepped from them. 

He wasn’t sure if it would work. He wasn’t sure if any of this would turn out to anything. But the god’s moment of weakness, with Morpheus sobbing in front of them was rare humane sight. The grief of his loss child was sticking to him the darkness, and Will had to try. While the god’s mood was still delicate, and not the harsh red anger from moment before, he had to try. 

"Let us save him." Will whispered, his words a half-beg as he took another step. "Please. I saved Loretta because I vowed to as a healer. You owe me nothing. But I am begging you – please,  _ please _ \- give us a chance to save him."

Morpheus paused, his throat still wheezing at the force of his cries, and trained that pin-point gaze back on Will. He stared at Will for a long moment, his chest still heaving in the silence, and shook his head. “You will not.” His voice was soft, his lips and face numb. “You won’t be able to save him.” 

“Let us try.” Reyna, a familiar and strong presence, didn’t flinch as the sharp knife gaze hit her, only a soft inhale as the god's gaze pierced her skin. 

While the god’s gaze may not leave any physical mark, the stare of this god was not meant to be turned on anyone but in complete, deep slumber. To be awake, to be aware, seemed to be the ultimate intrusion in the god's eye, and the sharp pierce from his pin-point pupils made you extremely aware of the fact. 

Pain, Will had learned from this, was not an exclusively conscious commodity. 

The god was still staring at Reyna, his eyes dark. 

"I can never forgive Hades for what he did - for what he  _ didn’t  _ do. Why should I let you destroy all my hard work, and the one thing I am able to do for my daughter?" He asked them, smoke swirling around his fingers like rings. He clenched his fist and the smoke dissipated like vapor. 

His voice was considering. That was more than what they had before. 

“And we can never repay that.” Jason’s voice was soft, earnest. “But Nico did not do any wrong against you. No demigod should suffer because of the actions of their parent. Please.”

Will was struck suddenly with the thought - with the fact of god's boredom. Revenge was one thing, but revenge faded. In the millennia since the gods had formed, revenge plots had been formed and discovered, struck down and carried out. Revenge, for a god, was as familiar as breathing for a mortal. 

But this - perhaps - this was something different. Hopefully, gods bless them, something interesting. 

“Please.” Hazel’s voice was soft and so painfully earnest, “I cannot make amends for my father. But Nico deserves this no more than the attack your daughter died from. Please.”

A moment, a beat, passed before the god spoke up. 

"Considering I am bound to this dream until one of you breaks it -” His voice was bitter, but he continued. “I will give you one chance." He told them, and Will had to keep his chest from seizing. "One chance. If you fail, I will get the Hades boy for my revenge and you will all forget him forever." He sniffed, considering. “Perhaps if all you consent to forget everything, it will stick this time.”

There was a too-full moment of silence, each of them struggling to speak.

Reyna stepped forward, always the strongest. "We'll take it."

Morpheus waved his hand to the side, almost like he was flicking across images in the air only he could see. He continued to do so, already planning their singular chance. He spoke, and his voice was stronger than it had been moments before, crying over his dead child. 

"I am a fair god. I will not be playing with allusions or trickery, I will present the situation and you must survive. If you die in the dream, you will wait for the others. You must reach the boy without dying.”

"And when we find him?" Reyna spoke up, her chin high.

"A touch will be enough." He told her, mirroring her high chin of regality.

"This will not be easy." He continued, "I am giving you each a fair chance, but do not trick yourselves into thinking that I am wishful of your victory. Hades has wronged my name and I thirst for revenge.”

They bowed their heads, understanding.

He clapped his hands and when he pulled them apart, a bottle was there. Clear liquid, like water, nearly overflowed at the silver top. It looked almost like those flavored tea bottles Hina always bought, with the bright colors and fun facts on the cap. He handed it to Reyna, at the front of them and closest to the god, her spine straight with fearlessness. 

“Drink this before you sleep. You will all need to be asleep at once, do you understand?”

They all shared a look.

Will, taking the large bottle with gentle fingers, nodded. “We understand.”

* * *

And, just as the end of his words were hitting the air, they were back.

They all woke up with a gasp, nearly sending Wes and Meralda into an early grave.

“Did it work?” The son of Athena was instantly demanding, his notebook at the ready. “Did you see him? Did you talk to him?”

Will was already out of the bed, shoving his shoes on. “Yes. To everything. It worked.”

Wes was already demanding more answers, his pen nearly a blur as he took everything into account. Meralda was at Hazel’s side, her eyes concerned as they all fumbled out of their own bunks. 

“We’ll answer more later, okay?” Jason was telling Wes, his voice kind but urgent, the instructions of what they needed to do awakening in their minds. “We have to go. There’s another part and we have to go now.”

Wes was sputtering words at them as Hazel pulled on Will’s arm, urging him to follow Reyna’s quickening pace.

* * *

Clovis opened the door, took one look at them, and groaned loudly.

Still groaning loudly, his siblings snoozing away peacefully only feet away, he shuffled to the bedside table and snapped the band on his wrist.

He cut his groaning off with a sigh, overly annoyed, and gestured towards to the open beds. “Go on.”

They were quick, knowing that their time was limited. They passed around the bottle quickly, each wincing at the sour taste as they sipped at it, Clovis watching them with tired, slightly curious eyes, before facing their beds. Will didn’t bother tucking himself in, only laid down in the bed and allowed the cabin’s magic to lull him to sleep. His eyes fell quickly this time, no fight behind them. Just as Clovis was reaching to Reyna, he was asleep.

* * *

There was a long moment of darkness.

Nothing like the calm darkness painted on the back of his eyelids, the calm stillness he fell asleep to. It was…alive. Will was aware of the darkness, the shadows dripping and brushing against him, pushing against him. The darkness was a weight against his skin, moving across him with an alive presence. It pressed against him on rhythm, against and away his skin every few seconds almost like...almost like it was breathing. 

He was standing, he realized belatedly, standing alone and surrounded by the alive and breathing darkness.

It was like that for minutes, he counted unsure what to do, before the shadows paused against him, mid-touch.

The darkness evaporated in an instant, and Will wasn’t alone anymore.

Hazel was beside him, her mouth forming a thin line, and her eyes met his with a grateful air. Jason next, and then Reyna between them all, already in position. 

They were alone. 

“Where are we?” Hazel whispered, turning her back to Will’s in order to safely glance around. Will took position, stupidly grateful for the blade at his side. He hadn’t fallen asleep with it, but there it was - heavy and strapped securely. The god was giving them a fighting chance, despite what he thought. 

Then, the air around them began to melt like wax - just like in Will’s dreams - and they were standing in an open field. 

Field was a generous term. Field implied life, nature of some sort. And perhaps that had once existed, in this place. But now, stretched out open in front of all of them, there was no sign of life but their own heaving chests. 

Dead grass was crumbled into small piles, browned color with chucks of crumpling dirt surrounding them. A cliff towered off in the distance, the only distance they could see, and the sky burned a nasty, dusty yellow. There was no sun. 

They each had their weapon at the ready, Jason and Reyna mirroring Hazel and Will’s position as they crept forward. No immediate threats, then.  

“The cliff.” Reyna muttered over her shoulder, her shoulders tense in familiar battle position. “Head towards it.” 

Just as her voice was pressing into the air, her words just finished brushing their way out of her mouth, the screeching began. 

Will shot off like one of Apollo’s arrows, grabbing into Hazel’s hand at his side. 

They raced across the field, all heading to the cliff. It was the only place they  _ could  _ head, with the screeching echoing behind them, getting closer and closer. 

Fuck. Will pumped his legs even faster, stupidly grateful for all the training the Ares cabin insisted each cabin have. 

Another scream - much, much too close - sounded, and Reyna was on the ground. 

Will stumbled to a stop, Hazel’s hand still clenched in his, and stared back with wide, scared eyes. 

Reyna hissed out a curse, still on the ground. Jason was there after a single second, grabbing onto her arm - the injured one, not the one currently splashing crimson against her dark skin - and heaved her to her feet, dragging the girl into a run. 

“What was that?” Jason was asking as he ran, not pausing to glance over his shoulder, only to the injured girl. Will was trying to get a good look at the wound, running after them. 

“Spirits, I think. Invisible, but -” Her teeth were gritted, “They’ve got something sharp. Claws, maybe.” 

_ The god of dreams, brother to the god of nightmares.  _

The blood crept down her shift, darkening the fabric. It looked like claw marks, she was right, three dark lines across her shoulder. 

“Keep running towards the cliff.” She ordered, like they needed the guidance. 

And they did, with it being their only real option. Will, suddenly, felt like the cattle from those pro-vegan documentaries, being prodded in the right direction of the slaughterhouse. 

“Patch it up, quick.” Reyna shoved her shoulder in front of Will’s hands. Will settled his hands over her skin, eyeing it, and frantically tried to estimate how quick he could do a quick, few stitches. He went to begin and -  

\- and Will’s mind went blank. 

“I…” He blinked a few times, patting his pockets. He...he usually kept a small, but life-saving, first aid kit on his person. It was gone. 

“What?” Reyna barked, glancing from where she was staring at Jason and Hazel take position around them. The screeching wasn’t getting any further, but not any closer. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He blurted, “I - I can’t remember any of my training.” 

There was a quick, half-heart beat of stillness as they all considered that, what that meant, and then they were back in action. 

“We need to stop the bleeding.” Hazel was pushing her hands under his, no nonsense. Her was shrugging off her jacket, folding it and tied the sleeves around Reyna’s chest. “There’s nothing we can do right now except add pressure.” 

Reyna was nodding through gritted teeth, “Good, let’s go.” She stood, tightening the tied sleeves with a heavy wince, and took off again, expecting the others to follow her head. The screeching was getting closer. 

Time was weird here, it seemed. And direction. As they headed straight, the cliff seemed to go left, then right, and they had to stumble against each other to find direction. But finally, their skin pressed together, a thick sweat covering their all bare arms, they arrived, their breathing heavy.. The cliff was much, much taller than anything Will had ever climbed. It was rocky, with several pushed out pieces of land. It wasn’t unlike the rock climbing wall at camp, but at the same time it nothing like anything Will had seen before. 

"We'll have to climb." Jason announced, throwing his weapon over his shoulder. He wiped his at his forehead, dragging the sweat and dirt out of his eyes. He shot a look over his shoulder, probably trying to measure up how far the screeching was. 

Reyna took a moment to eye the unstable rocks. “Careful.” She warned, flexing her shoulder once, adjusting Hazel’s tied sweater against her skin, before starting the climb.  

Will could do this - he was the best rock climber in the Apollo cabin. He hadn’t done it in the while - a long while - but it was familiar, and he could do it. 

Still, the lack of equipment - the lack of the familiar dig of the safety belt into his waist - had his pulse throbbing. 

He took a deep breath, and followed Reyna’s example. He tightened the weapon belt at his side, got into position, and heaved himself up. 

He calmed his rabbit-fast heartbeat with a few calming breaths, not even attempting to match Reyna’s fast, confident reaches. She was ahead of them already, her determination being her sole fuel despite her injury. She had fought through pain before, that was obvious. 

Jason was humming under his breath, apparently needing the same calming force as Will.  

“Can’t you fly?” Will asked, keeping his gaze firmly ahead. He reached for another rock, pulling himself up. 

Jason didn’t glance over at him, keeping his gaze up. “I can’t. It’s not working. I can’t control the air here.” 

Will blinked. That made sense. He...he couldn’t remember his medical training, not even a little bit, not even enough to piece together  _ bleeding wound  _ and  _ pressure,  _ probably some of the most basic direction. 

They couldn’t depend on their demi-god abilities, then. 

Reyna and Hazel seemed to hear them, going quiet as they each considered that. They must have pieced it together just as Will did. 

Will focused on his climbing, because that's what he needed to do. He pushed away the thoughts of how Reyna's shoulder was starting to drip down into the air, and the worrying crumble that occasionally had them each freezing in place, worried for themselves and each other. 

How Nico was. Where Nico was. 

He focused, because that was something he needed to do. He needed to push that all out of his mind and just  _climb_ like he'd done hundreds of times before. And it was almost working, this focus, except - 

\- except a scream broke all that concentration, and nearly had his hands closing around nothing. 

Hazel screamed, her hands flailing as she misplaced her weight, and Will's frozen eyes were trained on her and her only. She grabbed onto the nearest rock in panic - jagged and rough - and winced back as it cut into her palm. Her feet went loose under her, and she frantically tried to find and footing. The jagged rock - already deep in her bleeding palm - loosened and threatened to fall forward from where Hazel was hanging off.

Reyna - the closest to her, yet not near enough to offer any help - spoke calmly, staring straight into Hazel's panicked face.

"You are going to fall." Reyna told her, her voice steel and cool. "You will most likely die once you hit the ground. But you will be fine. You will wake up in the real world and you will be perfectly fine. You will wait for us and we will save Nico. Do you understand?"

Hazel nodded, her eyes tearing up. "I understand." She told them as the rocks beginning to crumble under her hands. "Save him." She instructed, her last words before the rocks and dust completely gave out from under her, and she fell towards the ground without another word.

Will looked away quickly, the hit of her body on the ground echoing across the cave, and that sound alone was enough for him to know. With a single, heavy glance, Jason gestured for him to continue climbing, and he did.

"We'll save him." Reyna only said, and Will forced himself to believe her. 

One down. Literally. 

He stared up at the edge of the cliff, thinking about the rock climbing he did at camp with his siblings. It was nice, briefly, to be thinking of them in such a time.

Reyna was over the cliff first, waiting with impatient air for Jason to help pull him up. Will didn’t attempt to quicken his pace, and only climbed at his sure pace. Fuck, his arms were starting to ache, his legs shake. 

“Go.” Reyna urged. He didn’t look back down at the cliff. 

He let Jason help pull him up, wishing his legs weren’t as shakey when he was finally pulled into a standing position. He swayed once, twice, before kicking off to follow Reyna and Jason as they crept downhill. 

They peeked around the large rubble of rocks at the top of the cliff, right before the ground started to dip downwards. 

There was a door. 

Out in the middle of nowhere, stark against the dark rubble and dirt, with seemingly nothing behind it. Just a door. 

Reyna scowled. “I imagine that’s where we’re suppose to go.” She didn’t seem much pleased by this fact. 

Gods. This was all just magic in his head, he knew that. But Morpheus was having too much fun with all this. 

Will spat on the ground. 

Jason was leading them downhill, not sparing a look over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

Will let himself be lead, glancing around the area every few moments. With the invisible spirits hardly behind them, he had no idea what to expect next. 

“This must be the next part.” Reyna muttered, mostly to herself. She nodded at Jason as the other boy’s hand lingered against the door knob. It was a silent exchange, no words needed. 

They braced themselves. And Jason flung open the door. 

And, as the door swung open, the darkness returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh finally an update!  
> I'm hoping to have this finished up by the end of the month hopefully! Only two more chapters!  
> If you're still sticking with this story, THANK YOU SO MUCH. i started this fic to work on my angst writing and I'm really trying with it y'all.  
> RIP dream hazel.  
> info revealed! plot points hit! they're fighting to save death boy ahhh!   
> follow me on tumblr for more solangelo and tumblr prompts: rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violence ahead, if you want detailed tags (with a bit of spoilers!) check the bottom! :)

They were only in darkness for a few moments, this time. 

It slid on and off them like a thick blanket, heavy and stifling, until a new area was revealed. 

Will blinked, Jason's hand a death grip on his wrist, and glanced around. 

They weren't in the dead hills anymore. They weren't outside, in a long, wooden barn-esque area. Floorboards under their feet stuck and jutted up with random pattern, only sticking out rusty nails and decaying pieces. He swallowed, and stepped forward carefully. 

This was a place of nightmares, Will was realizing. Morpheus had placed them in a nightmare. 

But whose? 

The floor creaked under their feet as they crept forward. There was a door at the end of the building, ominous and dark. They were slow and hesitant in their movements. It wouldn't be this easy. There had to be something - something to stop them or deter them or -

There was growling.

Will froze, both of his companions following his example. It was low, but obvious, and they had all heard it. 

Growling.

Dogs.

Angry, large black ones, Will caught sight of. With snarling, foaming mouths, beasts like Will had never imagined, not even in his worst nightmares. Behind the pillars of wood - hardly a few yards separating them. One leap and the animals would be on them. There were three - one for each of them - with bright, silver eyes that glistened like shiny quarters. 

Will was suddenly reminded of the textbook images he had studied of rabies-infected animals - the crazed, angry look in their eyes, the manic twitch to their bodies. These were animals hungry for blood.

They crept slowly forward, slobber dripping down from their scarlet-red gums. Their teeth were coated in a thin sheet of pink. Will pressed himself to the backs of Reyna and Jason, the animals starting to surround them. Fuck. 

Will reached for the weapon at his side, hardly having time to examine it. It looked to be one of the basic training swords in the arena, nothing significant about it. His go-to weapon was a sword, golden and silver handle given to him for his thirteen birthday, but it was nowhere to be seen. 

Reyna and Jason each had the same. No advantages, Morpheus had guaranteed. 

No powers. Basic weapons. Hellish situation. 

One of the beasts leapt forward, attacking Jason first. Will couldn't glance over or offer a hand or word, as the beast in front of him followed his example. 

Will bared his teeth, breaking apart a bit from the two of them at his back as he pushed his weight forward to smack the animal in the snout. He slashed, and jumped out of the way, and prayed his minimal training would hold up. 

It wouldn't, he knew. He wasn't much of a soldier, or a hero, but that...that was okay. As long as he got one of them to Nico -

His beast pounced on him, and it was only the heavy metal of his sword that saved his neck from getting torn out. 

He pushed the beast back, it's smacking teeth had gotten so close Will would feel slobber dripping down his throat.

Reyna met his gaze for a desperate half-second as he pushed the beast off of himself before she shoved her fingers in her mouth and whistled, drawing all the attention towards her. Will's beast abandon him, whip fast in his turn on the girl, and started creeping towards Reyna. Jason's did the same. 

Will's breath caught as he realized what she was doing. 

"I'll hold them off." Reyna growled, her teeth bared at the snarling animals. She swung her sword back and forth before yelling out a war scream. "Go!"

Jason grabbed onto his shoulder - his only driving force - and shoved him to the side. An animal pounced forward, sinking its claws into Reyna’s calf. Jason, already pulling him away, only tugged on his arm harder, running towards the single door. Locked – but not for much longer as Will threw his shoulder against it, splintering the wood off its cheap metal handles.

They stumbled through the door together, wincing back as they were thrown into another field. Not the same field - that was obvious from the bumpy terrain, the whipping wind around them. It was like they were in the heart of a tornado, angry wind and dust and debris. The sky was still that same nasty yellow.

Jason’s hand was clenched in the back of Will’s shirt, pulling him along. Will narrowly missed a flying piece of wood, heading straight for his chest, in a position that probably would he impaled him.

Jason was pointing to Will’s right - there were more rocks there, perhaps to hide in, perhaps to climb. Will turned and started running.

Gods, the dust was horrible. Slapping his face, causing him to squeeze up his face and avert his eyes.

Will followed Jason’s lead, always the leader, and wondered what the hell they were going to do. As long as they stunk together, as long as they fought together and got to Nico, they’d be fine. They could make it, Will knew this. Except -

\- except debris was heading their way.

“ _Jason!”_ Will screamed as the other boy went down, hit in the side by a long piece of sharp metal. Where the hell was this trash even coming from? Gods, what the hell were they going to do?

Jason hit the dirt like a brick. He laid there, gasping and clenching at his heavily darkening side, and it took Will another precious moment in the storm to trudge through the fighting air to get the few feet over to Jason. Will dragged him up, draping the other boy’s arm over his shoulders, and struggled under the weight of the other boy. Which – which didn’t make sense – Will had carried numerous demigods from war-torn sidelines, had thrown campers bigger and heavier than Jason over his shoulders and ran them to safety, so why did Jason feel so goddamn heavy? Like his presence along Will’s back alone was digging him into the soft mud, like his weight was made out metal and not the muscle and skin?

The other boy began to slip from Will’s tight grip, going a bit lax against his back. And that – that was _not_ a good sign.

Jason _couldn’t_ go down – Jason was the _hero,_ he was supposed to get Nico out and save them all, suppose to save them from forgetting and from Nico from dying. With Reyna and Hazel gone, it _had_ to be Jason, Jason had to save Nico because -

Because Will…

Will couldn’t do this on his own.

He knew this.

Will was a medic – he sewed skin back together and clasped his hands over bleeding gashes and sang hymns until his throat was sore and his cheeks hurt. He saved demi-gods, but he wasn’t anything close to a savior.

His hands were clasped over Jason’s at that moment, applying pressure and already searching for something to tie around Jason’s side without having to lay the other boy on the ground because they _definitely_ didn’t have time for that, and the wind was only getting worst with every horrible second. His medical training was useless to him at that moment, and he hardly knew what to do past Hazel’s earlier insistence of applying pressure to the wound. Fuck.

Jason was heaving into Will’s neck, his head a lull against the hard wind. He was grunting out Will’s name, mumbling into his skin as his legs gave out a little bit more with every second. Another crash of wind hit them both, and that’s when he finally crumpled down to the ground, nearly bringing Will crashing down onto him.

“You have to go.” Will realized the other boy was gasping, over and over. Jason was pushing Will off him, leaving dark smears all across Will’s exposed skin. “I can’t – I’m done for, you need to go before you get hurt too.”

"I – I can’t do it. I need you, you need to -” Will shook his head desperately, gripping onto the other boy's hand. The wind was whipping around both of them, hard, and Will pulled Jason to his chest, attempting to relieve the other boy if only for a second. His hands here tight on Jason’s arms, “Jason, I can’t, I’m not a fighter, I can’t -”

"You are for him." Jason told him seriously, his mouth shoved into Will’s neck as his breath hitched. He shoved his sword over, “You need to do this. Run. _Now._ Save him!”

Will, bend over the other boy, was so incredibly aware of how useless he was in that moment. His mind was racing with what he needed to do to save the other boy – pressure, disinfectant, hymns, ambrosia – and pulled away, the blood on his hands and exposed skin already fading away as he stepped away from the other boy. He left Jason there – choking on blood and dust until he would finally stop breathing and fade away – and he, Will, he -

He ran.

He wasn’t aware of the tears streaking rivers through the thick dust on his cheeks, didn’t really pay attention to how he was choking on his sobs, and he wouldn’t ever really pay these facts any attention because right now, right at the moment, he was incapable of doing anything but completely focusing on the simple action of putting one foot in front of the other and _running._

He ran until he was free, and the wind was settled and stilled, and there was a single moment – a moment where Will stopped and panted and took in his surrounding, where everything was still.

Then the room around him began to shift again, the dark dust and shapeless debris melting into the ground and fading, exposing rough, dark sand in its place. The sand was black, he noticed, and he didn’t even know black sand was a thing.

The sand began to warm under his feet, and the air above him began to glow. Almost pleasantly at first, until the light continued to amplify until it was brighter and brighter and _bright._

Will had never been sunburnt before. He had siblings who had suffered from the mild burns, so it wasn’t some weird child of the sun god thing. It was mostly do the fact that he had grown up in California, and his mother was always careful to douse him with proper skin care that he would later take to heart and _always_ wear sunscreen. All these factors, combined together, lead to the single current truth: that Will Solace had never been sunburnt before.

But now -

Now with the blinding light cooking him from overhead, Will would feel his skin and muscle – what felt so deep it was down to his _bones –_ he could feel it burning – blistering, almost – and it took everything in him to take another step.

The sand, burning the skin off the soles of his feet, only made the pain more agonizing as it seeped into every wound. He...he was wearing shoes, right? When this started?

The air was just as boiling, and every breath was agony. His throat was screaming with every inhale, his lungs the same, as the searing air brushed and painted his inner body with burns and blisters until it felt like his blood was boiling with the air.

He panted, and vaguely observed how he wasn’t sweating – not anymore. That was…bad, right? He felt like that was bad. It didn’t feel good.

Will attempted to distract himself from the mind-searing heat surrounding him. To take his mind off the steaming sand, and the boiling air, if just for a single brief flash of a moment.

He thought of his sparse memories of Nico, and wondered how many more there were.

He panted, the water in his body nonexistent, and wondered about them. Him and Nico, them.

If they were happy, how they were together. Were they more affectionate bickering, or thoughtful caring? Or both? Were smirks or smiles more commonly exchanged between them?

If Nico loved him.

Because Will didn’t remember many things, but he remembered he loved him.

He loved him like he loved the sun – constantly, but was reminded harshly, fiercely, at times. Was constantly surprised by the beauty, and feeling so _incredibly_ special for having a connection to that.

Nico was like the sun, to him.

Not like the sun was right now – blaring down in torture – but warm, and so goddamn radiant, almost blinding with it. He had so much in him. So much that still had to found.

Will wouldn’t let that be forgotten.

He would fight forever for Nico – and _fuck_ was it starting to feel like it – and he wouldn’t ever stop. Not until he was dead.

Will squeezed his eyes shut and kept walking and walking and walking until finally – _finally_ he thought with such unbelievable relief he almost sobbed, felt the black sand shifting under his feet. He stood, his eyes still painfully shut, and struggled to take even breaths as the horrible heat was leached away from his skin, from his insides, and the white light slowly faded, leaving his face cold and eyelids dark.

When he finally opened his eyes, it wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t anything close to the blind sun he had witnessed. He was in a hallway now, it seemed, with soft glowing yellow light. It was grand, with detailed wallpaper covering the surface, and dark patterned carpet swirling out in front of him. A glass chandelier was unlit and extravagant, hanging off the ceiling in front of him.

It looked like…the end. Almost.

He limped forward, the loose skin on his feet dragging as he struggled to cross the rough carpeted floor.

Grand double doors greeted him at the end of the hallway, looking like they belonged more in a royal castle than the hell they were dreamed into. Dark mahogany wood and blood red drapes filled his vision, and he didn’t hesitate as he pulled open the golden door handle.

The room was equally as grand as its counterpart, with dark colors and gold accents covering nearly the entire room. There was large, stained glass windows covering the walls, but they were dark with night. In front of the room there was a darkened glass box, and Will hesitantly started towards it. It was large, mostly long, but a beautiful piece of work and from this angle, as Will slowly edged closer it was almost…it looked almost like a…

Casket.

And there was Nico.

He rushed forward, all worry and pain abandoned as he threw himself to the front of the room. Because there was – there was everything. That was…exactly what Will had been looking for, for what felt like forever, because now the hole in his chest was filling slowly as Will drank in the sight of him.

Will bent beside him, and his eyes went wide with horror at the other boy's appearance. He wasted a single precious moment to just stare at him – at Nico who was real and breathing and _whole_. His skin was unnaturally pale, and Will could trace the other boy’s blue spiderweb veins if he wanted to, they were so visible through his paper-thin skin. Nico’s chest rose and fell with perfect timing, and he let out a single soft groan as Will slowly reached out, hesitation in every movement.

And, as just as Will's shaking hand was about to brush across Nico's lax cheek, his chest exploded.

Truthfully, his chest had felt like it was on the verge of exploding since he stepped foot into the room, but this one had Will gasping, his hand coming up to his chest to push against the blade that had just been buried in his back. He was pulled back, harsh hands heavy on his shoulders, as the blood began to spill down his front and fill his mouth.

Will stumbled back at the rough hand, his fingers still clutching at the sliver of metal peeking through the fabric of his shirt.

And this….this was bad.

This was so _horribly_ bad.

A faceless soldier, clear from his battered armor, stood above Will, letting him go after dragging him away. He stared down at Will, an impossible smug air to his emotionless face, as Will began to choke on the rust blood climbing up his throat.

Will fell to the ground, gasping at the completely consuming pain that was pulsing from inside his chest, and when he glanced up, he screamed his throat raw, as loud and horrible as he could around the bubbling in his mouth.

Because he could – he could _see_ Nico.

Nico, asleep and plagued by nightmares, groaned in his sleep, his face wrinkling up in distress. From here – from only a few _goddamn_ feet – Will could see something in Nico’s fallen hand – something Nico’s hand was white from clenching around – it was – it was –

It was his necklace.

His _necklace –_ despite Nico’s death grip on the object, was half-tumbled to the ground from Nico’s fallen hand, nearly brushing the ground and _that_ couldn’t mean anything good, nothing _good._

He was much, much too far. Even as his hand extended out, desperate for just a single touch, he knew this.

Will continued to reach out to the separating space that might have well been miles, choking and crying. Spit and blood dripped down his chin, only joining the pulsing heat at his chest.

The soldier swayed on his feet, taking the last of his energy, pulled a gun from his side. Will whimpered and cried and wondered, desperately, if he would remember this in death. Morpheus would take his memories for good, and Will would never remember Nico again, would never remember his small, rare smile, his messy bed-head, his corny jokes, his blushing skin, his angry accent, his mumbled Italian, would never –

He had failed. He failed Reyna and Jason and Hazel who would be forced to go on in their lives with such a empty absence, and he had failed his siblings and the whole fucking camp and – and - _and -_

\-  Nico.

Nico was going to die, and it was all Will’s fault.

Will continued to sob as his eyes desperately traced over the limited lines of Nico’s sleeping face. The pain in his chest – overwhelming, consuming – was nothing held to the sight in front of him.

The soldier, his gun clicking as he pushed back the safety, held his gun to Will's weak, sweat stained forehead, and Will refused to blink around his tears, refusing to glance away from everything in front of him.

The moment came and the soldier pulled the trigger and –

\- and Will awoke with a gasp of clean, flat air, the image of his camp necklace wrapped in Nico’s desperate hands burning one last image in his mind before he was sobbing, was curling into himself in sadness, in such emptiness that he was terrified would hallow him out completely, would -

"Will!" Hazel could be heard yelling, and he felt her familiar ring covered fingers gripping at his hand.

He was already choking on the emotion in his chest. He had _failed._ Nico was gone, and was going to stay gone and he wouldn’t even remember him and it was his entire _fault._ He was Nico’s last hope and he had failed, and the breath in his chest was still, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t _breathe_ and he wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ to breathe and -

"Reyna's still in." Jason told him, his voice thin, and Will had never felt such an immediate release of himself in his life. Jason swallowed, gripping at his own t-shirt, "She's our last hope." He told them both, his eyes glued to the small box television playing out in front of him.

"I couldn't save him." Will confided, his cheeks hot and wet. He picked himself off the ground and began crawling towards the screen, so relieved and so absolutely terrified at once. He let out a breath was seemed to hold more than simply air, and went limp at the sight of Reyna – bloody and clearly injured – limped through the storm that had taken Jason, dunking out of the way of flying debris.

“Neither could we. None of us could, on our own.” Hazel nodded to the screen, where the space of debris Jason had managed to clear cut a way for Reyna to limp through. The doorway Will had broken through was open, hanging on the hinges, let Reyna dunk through it. Her leg was bleeding heavily, Hazel’s jacket still tightly wrapped around her bleeding shoulder.

They watched, their small cloud of vision growing dark with shadows as Reyna fought through the dark storm.  

They prayed. They weren’t sure to whom, but they did, and they prayed hard.

She went through the desert next, and they watched as she panted and sweated and stripped down to her sports bra and shorts, her blade still slung around her waist. Her wounded shoulder bled freely, dropping scarlet down her back and chest. Her skin bubbled up just as Will’s did, and he wondered what she was thinking of to get herself through it – if she needed a distraction. She stumbled and fought against the hills of black sand, shielding herself the best she could from the blinding light until – finally – the black sand began to swallow up the sunlight and she was in front of the double doors.

And there she was, staring at Nico in the same wonder and horror that had crossed Will’s mind what felt like only moments before.

Reyna knelt before him, a few feet away, and bowed her head in such respect Will almost looked away.

They all watched in horror as a familiar soldier - the same one that had taken Will down, he was sure of it - rose behind her knelt figure, and he had to fight down the gasp and tears that wanted to come with the sight, he wanted to scream for her to turn, wanted to -

But Reyna stood, her blade clenched in his hand, and in one swift moment, the soldier was on the ground, gasping, and Reyna was alone.

She was across the room in seconds, her long struts quick and effective, her injury barely slowing her down. Her hand was outreached, stretching to reach him. She paused for a single moment, a half-second hesitation, and she bend down to his ear.

"It is time to wake now, brother."

She whispered this as she grabbed onto his hand, and the gasp that echoed after it was audible to even the desperate figures huddled around the screen, their hands and hopes pressed together, and somewhere, somehow, Nico di Angelo was waking up with a low breath and -

\- and they were in darkness once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****  
> DETAILED TAGS: Temporary deaths are suffered by most of the characters, with detail. There's mention of blood and wounds that the characters get, and the narrating character gets unexpectedly stabbed towards the end. Be careful!  
> *****  
> sorry for the short chapter, I'm just trying to finish up some WIPs before I drop my newest fic (it's a solangelo wedding planner au and tbh it's all i talk about these days)  
> RIP dream jason and will  
> reyna kicks ass tbh  
> one more chapter!!!  
> thank you for all your reviews! it's so nice to know people are still reading and enjoying this. thank you thank you thank you!!  
> is death boy okay??? how is he going to react??? and people remembering??? ahh!!  
> follow me on tumblr for solangelo prompts and oc rants rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

He remembers nothing.

He remembers everything. 

His mind is this contradiction, constant, all the time, never. 

He opens his eyes and sees darkness. 

It is always like this. 

It has always been like this. 

Sometimes, there is someone there, when he opens his eyes. He never remembers closing them. 

They are crying and promising him that they will remember. Remember what, he always wants to ask, but he does not think he can. He does not think he knows how. 

It’s a girl, he somewhat acknowledges, with a vulnerable look he somehow knows is out of place on her broken face. She rushes towards him, her braid flying out behind her, and is gone. 

And he’s alone. 

It is so dark, and he is so alone. 

Sometimes when he sees them, words push themselves out of him. He can never remember what he says to them, or how he says them,  but he knows there are words. Words he cannot remember. 

This is how it has always been. 

This is how it’s always been. 

He sits in darkness, a green glow from the walls that makes his chest ache and eyes droop. He does not know where he is, he does not know who he is. This is how it’s always been. 

A blond boy, with a scar on his lip, sobs against the wall and reaches out for him. For a moment, after he disappears, he thinks he wants the boy to stay. But then he is alone, in the dark, and he is no one. 

This is - 

This is how it’s always been. 

A girl, different this time, who cries freely and tugs at her curls. Her eyes shine in the dim light, and it’s almost like his body knows how to comfort her. With one step, he is pushed back into the corner, no one is there, and he notices dust on the wall. It is so quiet here. 

This - 

_ This is how it’s always been.  _

Blond curls, and freckles outstanding on deathly pale skin. Wide, overflowing blue eyes - a voice that sounds like it should be singing a lullaby, screaming out his name. 

\- his name. 

his name? 

Nico. 

That’s….his name. 

He thinks - 

He breaks -

He screams - 

_ He knows -  _

This is **_not_ ** how it’s always been. 

* * *

The blond boy, with curls and freckles, swears he’ll save him. Save Nico. And Nico - Nico who knows this to be a complete stranger, but somehow knows this stranger better than he knows himself, he thinks. He is unsure - he is unsure about so much and knows so little. 

Nico, he knows that to be his name. 

The strangers, the collection of them, Nico knows, somehow, somewhere, that these strangers love him. 

Nico thinks -

\- Nico doesn’t think,

Nico knows,

\- doesn’t know - 

\- Nico - 

_ \- Nico - _

Nico believes him. 

He knows this for sure. 

* * *

There is something there, something important, something more than darkness and a faint green glowing. 

Soft material and hard clay and string and color. 

This is  important. 

He does not know why, cannot begin to wonder why, but he knows this. When he holds that bundle of soft material, and when the small beads dig into his skin, he knows a bit more. Fleeting, quick clap images flash through his mind - indescribable, unexplainable. Faces he’s never seen, places he’s never been.

He holds the soft material to his chest and keeps his eyes open through the darkness. He feels like he’s lived through a forever here, in this dim, dark space. 

The dust is building up, and it’s breaking him down. He knows this. He does not know why, he does not know how, but he does not have much time left here. Exhaustion has joined his bones in the darkness. He is so tired, it is so quiet, but he is no longer so alone. This thought alone keeps him company. 

* * *

When time has passed, and he is awake and somewhat healthy and even smiles occasionally, he will think about this time - how he remembers every moment like a lifetime but struggles to keep a hold on any single one of them - and he will reflect upon how for him, unlike the others, there was no great battle to be won, no test to best. He remembers - hardly, with every detail - holding Will’s necklace to his chest, threading his fingers through the leather - and then it was over. And then he was gone. 

Nico remembers seeing white for the first time, waking up, and how when he finally opened his eyes, he was crying. 

* * *

For the first time in months, Will woke slowly. 

Not jerking out of a nightmare, not choking on his own breath simply softly, with a low breath, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. A beat of peaceful, warm warmth settled over his skin for a long moment, before he remembered. Before everything came back to him.

Will sat up, throwing the blanket off with the movement, and flickered his eyes over the room anxiously. 

Jason and Hazel were in nearly identical positions, half out of bed, half staring at the bunk adjacent from Will with wide eyes.  

Slowly, Will slid his gaze over to match their direction, and the breath was swiftly swept out of his chest. 

He - 

He was here. Nico was here. 

Small, curled in a ball against Reyna’s side. He was so, so deadly pale - his skin almost translucent, his veins a stark difference of color - and his hair laid limp and lifeless against the pillow case, so different from the feathery texture of Will’s memories. 

But...but he was  _ here. _

Reyna woke slowly like they had, her arms circling Nico’s waist, her cape covering most of the boy's thin frame. Her eyes fully opened, gazing at them in empty wonder for a flash of a second, before startling down to the boy in her arms. From here, Will watched as Nico’s chest fell with steady pattern, and was nearly lightheaded with the revelation. 

“Oh,” Clovis blinked slowly, bringing them all back to the moment, swaying in place. “Hey Nico. Good to know they weren’t crazy. Forgot ‘bout you for a second.” He yawned hugely, already half-way back to his bed, “Night.” 

Will stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, both processing what just happened and a bit in awe of the other boy’s unshakable composure, and quest to sleep.

The moment was broken with a soft sound - a sound of sleep, maybe discomfort - coming from the boy in Reyna’s arms, and they all froze with the sound. 

Hazel was leaning heavily against one of the bunk beds, weak with relief. Jason didn’t even attempt to hide his wet cheeks, hitching chest. 

They had done it. 

Reyna was standing then - a bit loose on her feet, Will at her side in a moment. 

“I -” she frowned, her mouth smoothing out into an angry line. “I can do this.” 

Will held his breath, and didn’t fight her as she heaved the other boy up into her chest, breathing heavily. They were all still so weak, but that could never stop Reyna. Not when it came to something like this - when it came to Nico. She’d burn the world to ash for him. 

“The infirmary,” Reyna was telling them through clenched teeth, “He needs it.” 

Will was already nodding, pushing the door open. Sunlight, surprising to him, streamed through the open space. He barely had time to spare a wince before rushing forward, the others on his heels. 

The infirmary was much more occupied than usual, maybe ten or so campers filling up the beds lining up along the wall. Capture the Flag - he was just remembering - had just ended when Jason ran to collect him. That felt like days ago at the very least for all of them. For everyone else, so it seemed from the lingering sunlight outside and mess from the game still scattered about - hardly a few hours. 

His siblings startled to a halt at their entrance, the door slamming against the wall where Jason had used too much force. Will blinked back at them for a single moment. 

Kayla was the first one to react, her eyes fluttered as she took in the sight, and after a moment, she gasped hugely, her hands coming up to her face. “N-Nico. I, I forgot.” 

“We know,” Will told her, gently pushing the girl back so Reyna could get through. “We all did. It was Morpheus.” 

Austin was right behind her, frowning. “The god of dreams? Why would he…”

“Everything will be explained later,” Reyna told them with clenched teeth as Nico’s head lulled freely against her shoulder. “Right now,” her motions were gentle as she carefully laid the boy on the nearest cot,  _ “help him.”  _

Hina, thankfully, jumped into position, her hands flying over the other boy with swift check. “He’s severely dehydrated, and malnutritioned.” She was announcing, Marisol behind her filling out the chart. “We need to set up an IV and start to check his other vitals.” 

“Let me -” Will was pushed back into a cot, Selena scowling down at him. Austin and Lukas, with some difficulty, were attempting to do the rest to Jason, Hazel, and Reyna with not much luck. 

Selena was fiddling with something off to the side, her hands quick and steady. “This…” she swallowed, “this is what’s been wrong with you. He’s been gone and you...” 

Will was nearly weak with relief, “Yes.”

Selena was turned away from him, but he could still see how her shoulders dropped with relief. “Okay,” she sighed, more emotion in the action then usual as she turned back to him, a needle and IV at the ready. A banana bag, maybe? 

“What are you doing?” Will asked, making no move to pull away his arm as Selena pulled him closer. She made a face at this arm - the medical tape still in place from the blood kit - and switched to his other arm. Over her shoulder, he could see his other siblings attempting to do the same. Reyna, nearly baring her teeth but still weak and tired as they all were, was nearly defenseless in the face of Austin’s calming smile, his careful hands as he examined her inner elbow. 

“You’re suffering from exhaustion,” Selena told him, pricking the needle in easily, Will hardly sparing a wince. “This will help you recover.” 

He blinked a few times, processing the words. “You’re…” 

Selena was still frowning, flicking at the plastic cover for the needle. “You need sleep.” 

He was already starting to feel heavy but - as his gaze slide over to Nico’s still but safe figure in the near distance - he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. This time, he welcomed the darkness as he fell back into the cot, and his eyes shut. 

* * *

When he woke up, he was in a dream. 

Obvious, from how starkly green the grass was. Like on a rainy day, when the burst of color was the only example in an otherwise gray day, except now it was almost glowing with health. He’d only glimpsed at grass like that on Olympus, grown by Demeter herself. 

The wind held a slight sway to it, just enough to put him at ease. He took a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. He wasn’t alone, but he wasn’t scared either. 

This was the nicest dream he’d had in awhile. 

The presence made itself known beside, a shifting of air, a slight exhale. Will opened his eyes. 

Morpheus was there, an almost terrible contrast against the lively nature. Around his feet, the grass shimmered and fluttered like it was unsure what to do. Will, in a strange moment, related to patch of grass more than he thought he ever could. 

“You bested my game,” he started off, glancing around the environment like he was surprised. This must have been Will’s dream then, with the god stepping in. 

Will’s eyes flickered away, staring off into the distance. “So,” he licked his lips, unsure. “You’ll leave him - us - be?”

The god’s gaze followed his, and they both stared off. It looked almost like the camp, without the buildings or cabins or strawberry fields. Just the rolling hills, waves in the distance, with nature untouched. 

“It should have worked, you know.” The god didn’t answer his original question, “I put a lot of planning into this. Years. It got sidetracked with the war but everything - it was nearly perfect.” 

Will took a steadying breath, his hands clenched at his sides. The god continued. 

“It was his home,” Morpheus remarked, his voice as soft as a god’s could go. “I anchored him to his home - his cabin - which should have worked. Has worked before.” He grimaced, “He has a home in you, Son of Apollo. And the others, I suppose. I should have seen it coming. I grew unassuming - children of Hades rarely make a home anywhere that isn’t their back pocket, you see. After anchoring his living spirit to his home, it would have been easily to simply wait out his slow demise. They all give up eventually, you know. It should have been easy, after all the spell work. No one should have noticed.”

Will let out a breath, a shot of terror hitting him at the thought. Of Nico giving up, laying there, in that horrible limbo, forever. At least until he gave up and disappeared, with no one ever knowing. 

The god gave him a considering look, “You and your friends have bested my game. You get your friend back.” A dark look passed over his face, “But rest assured, if we ever meet again - I will _ not  _ lose again.” 

The air was nearly electric with power, and Will believed him. There was no longer that soft pressing breeze, only promise. 

“Respectfully, I hope I never find out,” Will’s voice was honest, raw from the god’s words, and breathed out what he could. “Thank you, Morpheus. And…” He trailed off from his obligatory thanks, his eyes flickering off into the distance. “I hope your daughter is able to find peace. Loretta was kind and brave. I was lucky to have known her, even if only for a moment.” 

The pressure of power in the air eased at that, Morpheus joining Will’s distance gaze. “I hope as well. More than anything in my godly life, I hope she is at rest.” That burning sensation was back on Will, and he met the god’s molten gold eyes. They no longer glowed with threat, but godly energy. “Let the boy find peace as well. I am done with him, it seems.” 

And that - 

That sounded like a blessing, if any. 

Will bowed his head, his curls falling over his face, and took a breath, “Thank you.”

Then the god was gone, and Will was alone in his dreams for once. 

* * *

When he woke up, his sister was frowning down at him. 

Not an uncommon occurance, these days. 

Kayla didn’t bother to pick up his chart - she’d probably memorized it at this point. Instead, her hand come up to rest on his forehead, checking his heat. “How are you feeling?” 

Already, Will was attempting to sit up, pulling on the needle in his arm with a wince. He still felt heavy and drowsy, and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. The drugs haven’t work off yet, and they were still pumping him with them. He attempted to slur out, “Where’s Nico? Is he okay? Can I -” 

Kayla pushed him back down into the cot with a surprising bit of strength, a rare scowl on her face. “You’re  _ not  _ getting up right now, you’re barely able to walk.” Her face softened just a bit, “And Nico’s okay. He’s sleeping.” 

Will frowned, swallowing. “I should go check him out -” 

“Don’t make me strap you to this cot,” she threatened, picking up his chest just to hug it to her chest. “Let’s least check out your vitals before you go sprinting out of here, alright?” 

Will sighed, but eased back. With his weighted down limbs and heavy mind, it was all too easy. She clicked her pen, leaning forward to examine his IV drip. She hummed, her eyes a bit too concerned to be comfortable, and went through the familiar motions - pupils, pulse, blood pressure. 

Her hands drifted down his side, pressing and searching for any tenderness, when she paused, her eyes glued to his torso. 

“Your chest,” she pulled away, her eyes training on the foot of his bed. “When did that happen?” 

Will blinked at her, processing, then looked down at the hospital gown adorning him. Someone must have dressed him while he was sleeping. Selena, hopefully, Hina sadly probably. He was probably going to find some sort of vulgar doodle somewhere later. “What are you talking about?” 

She still wasn’t looking at him, messing with his IV. He knew for a _ fact  _ it was perfectly fine. “I went to take your heartbeat while you were sleeping,” was all she said in lieu of explanation. 

Will still didn’t understand, “And?” 

Finally, her eyes flickered to his. She was pale, her usually flushed cheeks devoid of almost all color. “Did it happen in the battle? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I don’t…” Kayla reached forward, pushing the thin fabric down, and Will was speechless. 

He traced his fingers over the raised, scarred tissue clumped together. It looked old, a long ago, still lingering wound. 

“That’s directly over your heart,” she swallowed, “even with ambrosia....how did you survive that? Without formal surgery, nonetheless?” 

Will dropped his hand, pushing the stiff gown back into place. “I’ll tell you everything later. For real, this time. I promise.” he swallowed, reaching for the cup of water at his bedside. Gods, the lukewarm water was stale, tasted dusty, and was probably as delicious as nector at the moment. 

He returned the cup, now empty, to his bedside. Someone in the distance - Austin, it sounded like - called for Kayla, and she shot him a conflicted look. 

“Go,” he waved her off, “I’ll be fine.” Already, his heavy eyelids were beginning to win. He wasn’t going to be getting out of this cot for a while still, it seemed. 

He relaxed against the sheets, and let the drugs take action. 

* * *

He didn’t dream this time. 

Relief was better than anything his mind could conjure up. 

* * *

When his eyes fluttered open for the second time that day, Will felt like ambrosia personified. 

That was the best metaphor his mind could come up with, anyways. The heaviness of his limbs was gone, the drooping of his eyes was no more, the constant pains absent. 

He sat up against the cot, his back popping, his stiff muscles stretching out with relief. 

Hina had replaced Kayla’s presence at his cot, it seemed, already flipping through his chart with a disinterested look.

Kayla was off in the distance helping one of their siblings. Hina straightened her scrubs, and stepped closer to his bedside, forcing his attention back to her. 

“You were passed out for fourteen hours total,” Hina gave him a judgemental look, bending down to begin checking his vitals. He complied with the motions, still in the process of fully waking up, the cotton in his head clearing up slowly. Kayla’s questions and the water had helped a bit, but it was still a process. “You’ve all been passed out since you’ve arrived.” 

Will swallowed, “And Nico?” 

She nodded her head to the side, the next cot over. “Check out for yourself.” 

Almost immediately, he was falling out of the cot, his legs weak and slippy under him. Hina, huffing, grabbed onto his shoulder and hailed him up, pushing him in the direction of the other boy. After a few more stumbling steps, and a curtain pulled away, his breath caught in his chest. 

Nico was here. 

_ Here. _

He was deadly pale - almost like, like the first time Will had seen him after all those years, during the Greek-Roman war when Will was covered in grease and dirt and Nico was there nearly on fire with his anger and angst. 

Will remembered that. 

A sob broke free of his chest. 

He _ remembered  _ that. 

Hands were pushing him down in a chair, leaning him forward so he could rest his exhausted body on the cot.    
Nico was so small, under the thin stark white infirmary sheets. He was nearly the same color as them, the only color being his ink dark hair, the bruises smeared under his eyes. This was the worst Will had ever seen him, he thinks, and from what he remembered, he’d seen Nico in some pretty rough conditions. 

Reyna was at his side, he noticed after a few minutes, her braid a messy knot trailing down her back, but her eyes clear and light for first time in months. She stood tall, and it took him a moment to realize how weak - how weak they’d all gotten - lately. She was looking better, healthier, after only a night. 

Her hand came down on his shaking shoulder, and he looked up at her with wide, watery eyes. He hadn’t heard her come in. 

“You did it,” Will blinked back the tears gathering in his eyes, “You saved him, Reyna. We all saw it - you  _ did _ it.” 

Reyna’s figure was strong and regal against the bright, luminescent lights of the infirmary. “We all did,” she corrected him in a strangely soft voice, her mouth a fierce line. 

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Jason was lit up by the lights shining bright behind him. He gave Will a soft smile, his gaze shifting to Nico’s figure in the bed. “We couldn’t have done it without each other. He wouldn’t be here if we didn’t all work together.” 

Will processed that, nodding, and blinked the wetness out of his eyes. Automatically, his hand went to rub at his chest, and he shot them all a wince. 

“I’ve got a scar on my chest,” Will glanced away, “Nothing else though.” 

Jason’s hand went to press to his side, and Will could ever so vividly remember the metal sheet cutting into his side. “Just the final blow.”

Hazel traced her fingertips over the raised tissue on her forehead, sighing as she let her bangs fall back in place. “Doesn’t hurt at all.” 

Reyna gave her a pensive look, “Did it?” 

She sighed, meeting Jason’s, then Will’s gaze. They understood. 

“Yeah,” her hands were a clenched mess in her lap, “I thought…”

“Me too,” Jason added on, Will nodding. He had thought too, for just a moment, that maybe it wasn’t as pretend as Morpheus had made it. It had felt like death. 

“I’ve died, before.” Hazel’s eyes flickered away, “I - I know what it feels like. And it was...very similar.”  

They all took a moment to absorb that. Will briefly considered the pain, the light air breeze of his weight, the comforting darkness. He, after everything, wasn’t afraid of that. 

They stayed there, comfort to each other only by presence, and took guard. 

Will’s siblings were in and out every once in awhile, frowning at Nico’s chart, their fingers light as they pressed into his pale wrist. Will, for once, didn’t fight to be the one to do so - he only waited, with the others at his side. 

Hours later - near into the late afternoon - when the silence had long since gone comfortable and warm, and Hazel was half-bent onto the cot - Nico let out a low groan. 

And only a few seconds later, he was waking up. 

Nico’s eyes fluttered open, squinting and wincing against the bright lights, and almost immediately started sobbing. 

There wasn’t even a single beat of shock from the rest of them, nearly immediate action. Reyna, at his bedside, grabbed onto his hand as it twisted in the sheets, and Hazel shifted so she was at his back, an obvious comfort. Jason, at his feet, was already muttering out reassurances, his head on Nico’s back. 

And Will was nearly across the room, a few feet from where he had been standing, his skin pale, his eyes wide. 

Nico was there - he was sobbing and crying and clenching onto them. He was staring up at Reyna with barely open eyes, making a horrible scratchy noise in his throat. He - he was probably thirsty. 

“Get up there,” Reyna’s teeth were clenched, her words a hiss, as she diverted her gaze from the boy in front of her to Will’s frozen figure. 

He was glued against the wall, her hands white-knuckled on the doorframe. 

“Will,” Jason’s voice was steady, calm. Without taking his eyes off Nico’s shaking frame, he held out a hand towards him. “Come here. It’s okay.” 

Jason's reaching hand made no time for question, grabbing onto Will's wrist and pulling him forward. Somewhere in the distance, a machine was beeping. His sister, shuffling though paperwork. The clacking of glass bottles. 

And Nico crying, right in front of him.

He took the bedside chair Hazel had vacated, his hands hovering unsure over Nico's back. Sobs broke their way free of his chest like the crack of lightening. Vaguely, Will knew he should alert one of his siblings.

Reyna gave him a hard look, and Nico twisted his own hands tighter in the stark white bed sheets.  Hesitantly, Will rested his hand on Nico’s shoulder, even as the other boy buried his face in his pillow, and squeezed. 

He was hurt, but he was home. He was here, safe, warm and shaking under Will’s hand. His home was here, with their hands rubbing reassurances into his back, whispering soft words into his ear, reminding him to breathe, guarding the door against the medics. 

There was...a long road ahead of them, ahead of him. But if there was anything Nico could learn from this, from this whole hell of an experience that would leave him pale and shaking and crying into the nights, it was that he wouldn’t be taking it alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS OVER  
> thank the gods tbh that angst train took forever  
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL  
> check me out on tumblr for 2 am fics and rants about my ocs rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com  
> sorry if the beginning part was confusing but like it was suppose to be?? just enough to get across nico's state of mind but not enough to lose the reader lol we'll see how that worked out!!  
> let me know if you enjoyed! <3 !


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